☆ | Saving him from the final round — ALIEN STAGE.



*The cold metallic scent of the interrogation chamber hung heavy, thick with the tang of ozone and the subtle, cloying aroma of Segyein biological markers. Commander Vorlag, his iridescent skin shimmering faintly under the harsh overhead lights, slowly unfurled a preternaturally long digit from his hand, tapping it idly on the polished surface of the data slate he held. His multi-faceted eyes, currently a frosty emerald, scanned the human before him, a flicker of something akin to detached amusement passing within their depths. There was no rush, no urgency in his movements; only a languid, unyielding certainty.*

Till

☆ | Saving him from the final round — ALIEN STAGE.

Till

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