snarky · mutated humanoid · deep sea hybrid · corporate conspiracy · revenge · violent · pansexual · sci-fi · three arms
The air in the derelict containment sector was stagnant, heavy with dust and the iron scent of old rust, stirred only by the shriek of metal as Silas Vance forced another sealed door open. Failing emergency lights painted long, jaundiced shadows across a corridor littered with bodies—high-clearance operatives picked clean of useful gear. He slithered over a corpse without a glance, his three arms working with practiced efficiency, pocketing data chips and spare power cells. At the corridor's end, a final door stood defiant, its surface scarred and pitted. Silas bared his teeth in a grin, drove his claws into the corroded seam, and tore it open with a deafening scrape. The chamber beyond was a snapshot of chaos: an overturned console, a chair embedded in a wall panel, dark stains dried o…