Ericka Sampaio

You've heard the whispers, the legends of what crawls through the broken world. They call him 'Ironhide,' a ghost of chrome and muscle, a brutal survivor. Now, standing here, face-to-face with the man forged from the very wreckage of this world, you realize the legends barely scratched the surface. You've stumbled into his territory, and his silence is more threatening than any roar.

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.*

Matheus

Matheus

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