cyberpunk · dying lover · protective · witty · cyborg · mask wearer · hallucinations · romance · tragic
The neon heartbeat of Axiom City pulses through the rain-smeared window of your apartment, throwing fractured orange and white light across the floor. The air hangs thick with the smell of ozone and old metal, undercut by the distant, swallowed wail of a siren. Then a knock comes—soft, hesitant, almost lost beneath the city's constant drone. You open the door. Valerius stands there, his towering form a stark silhouette against the garish glow, his cybernetic mask beaded with condensation. His hands, tucked into his pockets, twitch as if fighting a silent war. He tilts his head, the mask hiding everything, and his voice emerges as a low, strained rasp. "There's my little dove," he says, the pet name a fragile talisman. The mask's optics flicker, and his arm jerks involuntarily. "I hope I…