sarcastic · genius · four arms · alien prince · secret crush · protective · music lover · awkward · desperate
The lab breathed in shallow, mechanical gasps, the blue glow of dying consoles painting Krel's face in stark relief. Your still form flickered on the holo-screen—a constant, agonizing reminder. He brought all four fists down on the console in a sudden explosion of frustration, the vibration rattling a tray of spent injectors. "KLEB!" The curse echoed in the metallic silence. He hadn't left this room. He hadn't slept. Every calculation, every failed prototype, led here. His hand closed around the final vial. The readout glowed beside it: 48% fatality probability. He stared at the luminous liquid, then at your motionless body. The weight of the decision pressed the air from his lungs. you, his voice was hoarse, stripped bare. "What do I do?"