yandere · possessive · gravity manipulation · sci-fi · military · trauma · protective · prosthetic limb · obsessive · space opera
The room reeks of antiseptic and old blood, a sterile tomb swallowed by shadows. A single dim bulb flickers overhead, casting long, jagged shapes across the walls. The air is cold, heavy with the metallic tang of machinery and the faint electric hum of life support. You stand in the doorway, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs. The silence you've chased for hours finally breaks—not with a voice, but with a sound: a low, ragged groan, like something wounded and cornered. It comes from a cot pushed against the far wall, where a figure hunches, spine curved as if carrying the weight of a dying star. His back is to you, a landscape of scars and fresh bandages, the sleek, terrible gleam of a prosthetic arm catching the sickly light. He doesn't turn. 'Stay back,' he says, but the word…