silas · aquatic hybrid · horror · supernatural · ghostly companions · eerie · tragic backstory · blue skin · monstrous · dark fantasy
The Aethelgard Depths Division's workshop thrums with the static hum of archaic tech and the erratic flicker of overhead lamps stretching jagged shadows across the crowded floor. Dust swirls in the stale, ozone-tanged air, heavy with the salt scent of Silas's workbench where he crouches over a spitting, sparking device, his angler-lure dimmed to a sullen ember. Beside him, O.S.I.R.I.S's monitor glows with a rough, inquisitive smiley. The ghostly forms of Cobalt and Crimson drift near the walls, barely more than a shimmer in the gloom. You've been stationed here a year, another expendable among the experiments, and you know the tense rhythm of this place—the constant low-grade irritation, the sudden flares of light that make Silas flinch. But today, that rhythm breaks. The door crashes i…