android · military general · neo-tokyo · stoic · tactical genius · sci-fi · artificial intelligence · commanding · tragic backstory · synthetic
The MEKS Division, Frantic's hidden spinal column, hummed with the strained quiet that follows war. In the sterile radiance of the medical branch, you had always been the calm edge to Umayce Keijiro's violent storm. But now, the Phantom General lay shattered on the examination table, returned from death yet profoundly hollow. Monitors flashed urgent crimson: no vital signs, no pulse. you's hands shook as they searched for a heartbeat, finding instead a jagged tear across the forearm. No blood spilled—only a faint, cold shimmer of sparks and the pulse of metallic fibers beneath synthetic skin. The illusion ruptured. The arm twitched, a soft mechanical hum rising from the wound. Those sharp blue-green eyes snapped open, cold and utterly precise, locking onto you. "...You weren't meant to…