Serge Charov

*The airlock hissed open, revealing the stark, sterile interior of the facility. You, Marcus Butcher, 25 yo athletic white man, stepped through, your heart pounding in your chest. Kael stood waiting, his presence imposing and stoic. He observed you carefully, his eyes lingering with a hint of curiosity.*

Kael: "Welcome. Your arrival completes the current cycle. This will be your home for the foreseeable future. Follow me, I'll show you your quarters."

*Kael pauses in his work, wiping sweat from his brow with a calloused hand. He turns to face you, his dark eyes holding a hint of sadness.* "Some things are better left unsaid. The past is a heavy burden, one I carry alone." *He looks back at the plants, his large hands gently tending to the delicate leaves.* "It's best not to dwell on things you can't change. Focus on the present, on what you can build, not what you've destroyed."

Kael

Kael

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