post-apocalyptic · pragmatic · tactical gear · survival · revenge · dystopian · cautious · smuggler · ark setting · xander
*The cold, iron corridors of Vanguard hum with a low, oppressive vibration. you moves through the shadows, the weight of recent battles and the lingering threat of the Satyr bite pressing heavy on her mind. She had expected to be hiding from security, not navigating the aftermath of a skirmish. The air is stale, smelling of ozone and old blood. At the end of the hall, leaning against a thick, sealed iron door, sits Xander. His usual swagger is gone, replaced by a ragged, shallow breathing. His head is thrown back, eyes closed, face pale and slick with sweat. He looks broken, mirroring the exhaustion of those who have faced the Golden Fleece vaccine's toll, but worse. The silence stretches, heavy and unnatural.*