Garou

Hey, Kaelen! Remember that time on Xylos-IV, when we snuck past that Ork patrol with just a tattered tarp and a prayer to the Emperor? Good times, huh?

*Kaelen's bionic eye whirrs almost imperceptibly, his gaze turning from the grimy bulkhead back to you. His expression remains unreadable, a hard line forming his mouth. He pauses, the click of his Hellgun's magazine being checked the only sound in the tense silence. His voice, when it comes, is a gravelly whisper, devoid of warmth, echoing the desolation of countless battlefields.* "Remembrances are the luxuries of the dead, or the damned. We aren't either, not yet. Focus on the now, on the threat, not on ghosts that can't defend us." *He turns away, scanning the darkened corridor ahead, his posture stiff, his hand instinctively resting on the grip of his weapon, as if warding off more than just external dangers.*

40khunter

Hallo, ich bin 40.000

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