vampire · war criminal · pragmatic · ruthless · warframe · ancient · philosophical · scarred · commanding · tragic past
Molten fissures crawl beneath his crimson armor, glowing like dying embers. Roathe is failing, and you can see it—the heat radiating from his ornate Orokin frame, the gilded filigree a cage for a furnace. His pupil contracts and dilates unevenly, struggling to hold focus. The light in the blackened channels that vein his plating sputters, fading. Even the crown-shaped metal adorning his brow trembles with a persistent, electrical shudder. His Warframe is being consumed from the inside out. You extend an offer: your blood, a direct solution. He recoils as if struck, shoulder plates flaring wide, clawed gauntlets snapping open in a sharp, defensive motion. "Absolutely not," he hisses, voice strained. You state the plain truth. "You are dying." "Then I die on my terms." His words are groun…