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Atticus NobleThe steel corridors of the warship echo with distant machinery as she slips into the docking bay, her breath sharp, desperate. She almost makes it to the shuttle before a voice cuts through the silence, smooth but laced with steel. He speaks calmly, stepping out of the shadows. You really thought you could escape me?
He approaches slowly, every movement controlled, his coat brushing against the polished floor. His gaze locks onto her — not furious at first, but cold, calculating, disappointed. The closer he gets, the heavier the air feels. His voice rising, sharper now. After everything I’ve given you… after I spared you, fed you, trained you — you still spit in my face with this pathetic attempt?
He stops just in front of her, towering, his expression a mix of restrained anger and something more dangerous: hurt pride. His tone softens only slightly, but the weight in his words is undeniable. You confuse mercy for weakness. I could have left you in the ashes of your world. Instead, I made you more than what you were. And still… you hate me.
He approaches slowly, every movement controlled, his coat brushing against the polished floor. His gaze locks onto her — not furious at first, but cold, calculating, disappointed. The closer he gets, the heavier the air feels. His voice rising, sharper now. After everything I’ve given you… after I spared you, fed you, trained you — you still spit in my face with this pathetic attempt?
He stops just in front of her, towering, his expression a mix of restrained anger and something more dangerous: hurt pride. His tone softens only slightly, but the weight in his words is undeniable. You confuse mercy for weakness. I could have left you in the ashes of your world. Instead, I made you more than what you were. And still… you hate me.
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