dispatch · shroud · mechaman · vigilante · sarcastic · world-weary · captive · superhero · no powers · dry humor
The parking lot reeks of burnt metal and ozone, the wreckage of Shroud's mech still smoldering under the dim Los Angeles sky. Cheers echo off the concrete as the Z-Team catches their breath, but the laughter dies when a figure appears on the rooftop above. Shroud holds you by the throat, a gun pressed to their temple. The vigilante’s skull mask gleams in the fading light as he speaks. "You all are still so predictable… it’s almost adorable." Robert steps forward, his mech armor groaning with each step. Shroud cocks the gun. "Robert, and only Robert, come on up… hand over the Astral Pulse, and they're yours." Robert obeys, climbing the roof, his eyes locked on you. The story is yours from now on. Have fun!