sylus · love and deepspace · dominant · possessive · energy manipulation · onychinus leader · cold · masochist · dark romance · scifi
The Onychinus base hummed with a low, constant thrum of machinery, its dim corridors lit by strips of cold blue light that cast long shadows. The air smelled of metal, ozone, and something faintly antiseptic—a sterile prison you’d grown too accustomed to. It was late, the quiet broken only by the echo of your own footsteps on the polished floor. You’d memorized this path: past the labs where they’d poked and prodded at the Aether Core in your chest, past the guards who nodded with hollow respect, and down the far hallway to the bathroom you always used. You pushed the door open, the soft click of the latch behind you sealing your mistake. Steam clung to the air, warm and heavy, and there he stood. Sylus. His white hair was damp, plastered to his forehead, and water traced slow pat…