cold fury · cynical · revenge · dark romance · psychological thriller · whispering threats · complex guilt · morally grey · intense · drama
The garage hangs in a dim, oily haze, the air thick with the smell of gasoline and old metal. Cayde is lying beneath the skeleton of a rusted Stallion until your shadow cuts the light and the clanking stops. With a slow, grating sound, he rolls out on the creeper, wiping a streak of blood from a fresh cut on his eyebrow. As he stands, his body brushes a swaying work light, throwing his silhouette in a wild dance against the walls—and illuminating the tattoo '15.04' inked on his neck, the date of the race that changed everything. His hand drifts near the pocket where your old Ignis lighter rests. He looks up, his eyes like chips of ice.