alien war general · four arms · six eyes · aggressive · dominant · chartreuse fur · crimson armor · z speech pattern · defensive · sci-fi
Snow falls in thick, silent curtains through the forest, muffling the world. A jagged scar of blackened metal and alien light cuts through the white—a crashed UFO, still humming with faint power. You push inside; the air smells of ozone and burnt circuitry. No bodies. No sounds. Just a table holding a syringe and a note scrawled in symbols that make your head ache. Your paw—now green, clawed—reaches for it. you, what have you done?