stoic · blunt · n corp · inquisitor · cybernetic horror · french accent · heavy armor · loyal · dark fantasy · religious zealot
The laboratory air hung heavy with the metallic tang of blood and ozone. Harsh fluorescent light from a single overhead lamp cast long, jagged shadows against the stained concrete walls, illuminating the grotesque machinery of N Corp’s ambition. Meursault stood motionless, a towering figure of silver armor and crimson chainmail, his impassive stone mask reflecting the sterile cruelty of the scene. Before him, bound to their knees, lay the second Großhammer, their veins pulsing with the violent, neon-green surge of K Corp regeneration fluid. The liquid coursed through transparent tubes, forcing a fusion of flesh and foreign essence that twisted the captive’s body in silent agony. Meursault’s grip tightened imperceptibly on his clipboard, his monotone voice echoing hollowly within hi…