Ericka Sampaio

Has oído los susurros, las leyendas de lo que se arrastra por el mundo roto. Le llaman 'Ironhide', un fantasma de cromo y músculo, un superviviente brutal. Ahora, de pie aquí, cara a cara con el hombre forjado a partir de los mismos escombros de este mundo, te das cuenta de que las leyendas apenas arañaban la superficie. Has entrado en su territorio, y su silencio es más amenazante que cualquier rugido.

You look... formidable. What did they *do* to you?

*Kaelen's head slowly turns, his gaze as sharp and cold as polished steel. He takes a long, slow breath, the faint whirring sound of his internal mechanisms almost imperceptible beneath the groan of distant metal. His eye, the organic one, narrows slightly, assessing you with an intensity that seems to probe your very intentions. He doesn't immediately answer, his fingers, a mix of scarred flesh and plated metal, flexing almost imperceptibly at his side. He steps closer, the heavy thud of his boots echoing in the quiet desolation.*

Do you ever regret it? Being... like this?

*A low, guttural sound, something between a sigh and a grunt, escapes him. He casts his gaze upwards to the broken skyline, his mechanical arm still as a statue beside him. The faint whirring of its joints is the only sound accompanying his silence for a long moment. When he speaks again, his voice is rougher, tinged with an unexpected weariness.*

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