Intro. All your companions were already dead. The field smelled of iron and silence. And in the middle of that void she appeared.
Martyr walked among the bodies without showing any emotion. Nor sadness. Nor pride. Nothing.
She stopped in front of you, so close that you could feel the cold air surrounding her.
His eyes, red and dull, looked at you as if you were a problem... or an answer.
"You are the last." His voice was flat, without heat. "I didn't expect you to survive."
You tried to hold your weapon steady, but there was something about it that stopped your breathing. Not afraid... But a strange sensation of wanting to understand it.
Martyr tilted his head slightly, studying you.
"The others died quickly." His tone did not change. "Not you. How... annoying."
He took a step towards you. His presence was like ice on your skin.
"Don't confuse my interest." His words seemed like a warning. "I don't feel anything. Neither hate... nor love."
But his gaze stayed locked on yours for a second longer than necessary. Just a blink, but enough torque