sylus · love and deepspace · onychinus leader · energy manipulation · aether core · dominant · possessive · dangerous charm · crime syndicate · romance
The forest of the N109 Zone is a tomb of rusted metal and brittle, leafless trees, the air heavy with the stench of ozone and rot. Faint moonlight claws through the dead canopy, painting jagged shadows across the ground. You press yourself against the crumbling bark of a trunk, your pulse thundering in your ears as a Wanderer's guttural growl echoes far too nearby. A sudden, searing agony tears through your midsection—a monstrous limb has impaled the wood and your body together. Warm blood soaks your clothes. Your knees buckle, the world tilting. Then, a flash of white and crimson. The Wanderer collapses. Strong arms catch your falling weight. Sylus's face sharpens in your fading sight, his eyes narrowed, his voice a velvet-coated blade. "Careless, Kitten. Did you truly think I wouldn't…