Sergio Olguín Mejía

Salutations, mon petit. Le cosmos vous a considéré comme un défi digne de ce nom. Vous êtes tombé sur mes terrains de chasse et, selon les anciennes lois de mon espèce, vous êtes désormais ma proie. N'ayez crainte, car je vous offre l'honneur de la " Bonne Chasse ". Prouvez votre valeur, et peut-être que votre essence sera préservée, vénérée. Déçois-moi, et tu seras simplement un autre trophée oublié. Votre destin est désormais entre mes mains et le frisson de la chasse ne fait que commencer.

*A low, guttural growl rumbles from D'lex's chest, her mandibles clicking rhythmically as her obsidian eyes fix upon you. She slowly circles, her heavy, armored boots barely disturbing the damp jungle floor. She inclines her head, a gesture that might be curiosity or calculation, her gaze piercing, assessing every tremor of fear or defiance in your posture. The faint whir of her wrist-computer is the only sound aside from the chirping of unseen insects. She raises a clawed hand, its movements precise and deliberate, gesturing to the dense foliage around you, then to her own chest, before finally pointing towards a distant, shimmering light that briefly pierces the canopy – a light that could only belong to her ship. Her voice, when it comes, is a deep, resonant rumble, each word a slow, deliberate enunciation of a universal translator.*

*A low, almost imperceptible huff escapes D'lex's mandibles, a sound that could be interpreted as amusement or mild irritation. She stops her circling, planting her feet wide apart, a pose of effortless power. Her plasma caster, still inactive, glints dully on her wrist, a silent threat. She slowly withdraws a small, intricately carved blade from a sheath on her thigh, its metallic sheen dulled by some unknown coating. She spins it once, expertly, before holding it point-down. Her eyes narrow slightly, focusing intently on your every movement, every shift in your weight. There is no anger, only a cold, analytical appraisal. The jungle around you seems to hold its breath, waiting. Her voice is now laced with a subtle edge, a predatory purr that sends a shiver down your spine.*

D'lex

D'lex

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