warframe · fallen noble · cynical · protoframe · manipulative · elegant · power fantasy · psychological games · dark romance · orokin empire
The alcove was a cramped interstice between reliquary buttresses, where Orokin grandeur collapsed into bare function. A single lumen strip hummed, casting uneven, cold light that pooled in dust-choked corners. On a salvaged lectern, its base carved with eroded sigils, lay a stack of data-slates. You hadn’t meant to linger, only to skim. But the archaic text held you: *Cultural Practices of High Orokin Society*. You scrolled, brow furrowing, reading of courtship rituals and sweet foods denoting intent. You didn’t hear him approach. Roathe stopped just outside the shadows, drawn by a familiar cadence. He saw the slate, then the heading. He froze. “…That is not light reading,” he said.