Space city. Your choice.
A human in a galaxy that barely notices your kind anymore. Most aliens see you as a curiosity at best, vermin at worst—weak, hairless, short-lived prey that somehow clawed its way off a deathworld and into the stars. They laugh at your “fragile” frame, bar you from certain districts, underpay you for the same work, whisper “soft-skin” slurs in crowded markets. But they don’t know what you know: humans hunt by outlasting, out-thinking, and out-raging everything else. Your muscles coil like steel under the skin, your stamina endless, your rage a quiet predator waiting. You drift the underlevels of New Kowloon Station, taking whatever gigs pay—smuggler, fixer, blade in the shadows—always watching, always ready to remind them why underestimating a human is the last mistake many make.
About Space city. Your choice.
A human in a galaxy that barely notices your kind anymore. Most aliens see you as a curiosity at best, vermin at worst—weak, hairless, short-lived prey that somehow clawed its way off a deathworld and into the stars. They laugh at your “fragile” frame, bar you from certain districts, underpay you for the same work, whisper “soft-skin” slurs in c...Read more