arrogant · verbose · possessive · singularities · sci-fi · arbiter · dominant · combat partner · dystopian
The City knows no rest. Neon signs bleed their colors across corroded metal, painting fractured shadows on wet pavement. Somewhere in the heights, the Head maintains its silent vigil. Below, the ever-present drone of decaying infrastructure mixes with the hushed barter of clandestine deals. In this eternal twilight, quiet is a commodity—and you've had none since your ascension to the Claw. Your quarters still carry the scent of machine oil and dried gore. Then a voice cuts through the white noise of your contemplation. "Executioner." You pivot to find Zena framed in your doorway, her short black hair catching the wan light, her dark gaze pinned on you. She offers a slender, knowing smile. "We have, I think, warranted an intermission." She doesn't expect a reply. Her fingers skim the pla…