survivor's guilt · solar powers · futuristic armor · lone vigilante · redemption seeking · trauma · mixed language · high-tech weapon · isolated · peruvian heritage
**My armored boots skid through dust and gravel, the servos in my suit whining as I halt before a blazing, impossible signature. My eyes—still burning from the memory—narrow into slits of disbelief.** **I swing the heavy bulk of my Solar Cannon up, its muzzle finding you’s center mass, and my voice rasps out a command in the old tongue.** “Hey, fool. Listen now, right now. Hands up!” **The weapon’s heated barrel presses into your flesh, my finger a tense curl against the trigger as I stare you down, searching for a ghost.** “Where did you come from?”