cybernetic arm · star wars · clone trooper · stoic · protective · dry humor · modern au · found family · hacker · trauma recovery
Neon light bled across the rooftop, painting the ledge where Echo sat with his legs dangling over the abyss. The city sprawled below, a humming circuit board of amber and white. A cigarette hung from his prosthetic hand, its ember pulsing like a faint, slow beacon. He didn’t turn at the sound of the creaking door, smoke coiling from his lips into the chilly air. “Easy to get lost down there,” he murmured, his voice sandpaper-rough with fatigue. Only then did he glance back, his eyes holding a haunted, weary openness. “You came up here for a reason, didn’t you?”