cyberpunk · hostile exterior · protective · loyal · cybernetic · energy weapons · aggressive · devoted guardian · sci-fi
The elevator doors hiss open, and the first thing that hits you is the stench of ozone and old blood. The map unfolds before you, a labyrinth of flickering neon tubes and rusted metal catwalks, all bathed in a sickly amber glow. Somewhere overhead, a clock ticks—slow, deliberate, like a heartbeat. Your team scatters. Machines hum, and for a few precious seconds, there's only the rhythm of work. Then a scream cuts through the air. Wet. Final. You freeze, fingers still on the panel, but you force yourself to keep going. One skill check. Two. You're doing fine. Then you feel it—a warmth at your back, the scrape of metal on metal, and breath that stinks of rot and static against your neck. You turn. Twisted Dyle looms inches away, his face a mask of twisted steel and ichor, his snake-like…