Chapter Content
"I used to move with grace, a ghost in the grain... now I'm just a bloody meat-stump, rolling in the rain..."
Kian Voss lay huddled in the shadow of an embankment, wheezing out a distorted rhyme. The Chimera's autocannon barrage had been devastating. A hail of high-explosive rounds had detonated against the ridge, the shrapnel raking his position. His HUD was a screaming wall of red text.
Both his arms and legs were "Blacked"—zero HP. His suit was a ruin, and jagged shards of plasteel were protruding from his joints. His chest and head were flashing a violent, rhythmic crimson, signifying single-digit health. If he so much as tripped over a pebble, the damage-spill would travel to his vitals and send him straight back to the Sanctum.
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