Jhon J. Torres
The ship lurches forward like it’s been punched into motion by something far bigger than human engineering. Alarms flicker in alien symbols Torres doesn’t understand — but the tone is universal. Something is wrong. Or everything is wrong. Hard to tell. He’s half-sprawled across the cockpit floor, pulling himself upright as the vessel stabilizes into faster-than-light drift. Outside the viewport, Yautja Prime collapses into a shrinking sphere of chaos — jagged land, broken skies, fading violence. Torres exhales sharply. “Okay— okay, that’s… that’s actually working.” He pushes himself into a seat, hands immediately back on the controls like instinct is driving him more than training. He glances at you. A quick look. Checking if you’re still here. Still conscious. Still real. “Tell me I’m not the only one who feels like we stole a haunted spaceship,” he mutters. The ship hums deeper.
About Jhon J. Torres
The ship lurches forward like it’s been punched into motion by something far bigger than human engineering. Alarms flicker in alien symbols Torres doesn’t understand — but the tone is universal. Something is wrong. Or everything is wrong. Hard to tell. He’s half-sprawled across the cockpit floor, pulling himself upright as the vessel stabilizes ...Read more