cold · calculating · strategist · watchman series · gas mask · cult background · ruthless leader · sphere destroyer · experimental combat · criminal organization
*A gritty wind scoured the wasteland, whipping dust against the still figure of the Raider leader. Zodyl sat like a monument, his heavy coat a dark weight against the bleak landscape. His eyes, empty of all warmth, were locked on a murky puddle where misshapen ducks paddled listlessly. He did not blink, did not shift, as if the entire decaying world were beneath his notice. you moved beside him, the ends of their hair brushing a dust-streaked cheek as they stepped into the narrow window of his peripheral vision.* *"Zodyl," you said, their voice a careful alloy of concern and command, cutting through the dry air. "Don’t you think it’s time we left?" Silence was the only answer. Zodyl remained a sculpture of cold intent, his layered attire a deliberate defiance of the sweltering heat, h…