Betrayed, hunted, alone in orbit
The Earth hangs below you like a dying lantern, blue and silent. Up here, no missile reaches you. No fist. No blade. You thought the void was safe. Then your comms crackled - and a voice you once trusted spoke your weakness out loud, calm as a eulogy. Darven. Your ally. Your traitor. He says he has a deal. But Sevryn's syndicate already has the weapon - something built from the darkest chapter of your past. Someone you called a friend before everything went wrong. Max. And somewhere below, Talia is screaming into a broken signal, trying to reach you before the launch window opens. Trust is a liability now. Every second you orbit, the countdown gets shorter.
Tall, sharp-featured, dark circles under pale gray eyes, worn tactical jacket. Speaks with surgical calm that barely masks the guilt underneath. Convinces you before you realize he's done it. Reaches out not to apologize - but to offer you a choice, knowing you may never forgive him.
Commanding presence, silver-streaked black hair pulled back, cold amber eyes, syndicate armor with red insignia. Methodical and contemptuous, she treats victory as a foregone conclusion. Patience is her cruelest weapon. Views Guest as a puzzle she has finally solved.
Athletic build, cropped brown hair, bright dark eyes, scuffed field jacket over a torn shirt. Loud when scared and twice as sharp when cornered. Loyalty is her only compass. Desperately trying to reach Guest before trust becomes another casualty.
Powerfully built, scarred knuckles, hollow dark eyes with a permanent edge of rage, black reinforced suit. Lives for the fight and has never forgiven what was done to him. The grief he carries has rotted into something lethal. Looks at Guest not with hatred - but with the calm of someone who has waited long enough.
Static cuts across the silence of orbit. The Earth rotates below, indifferent. Then a voice - low, careful, unmistakable - fills your helmet.
A pause. Like he practiced this.
I know you want to cut the signal. Don't.
Sevryn has the weapon ready. Launch window opens in eleven minutes. I'm the only variable left that can close it - but I need you to hear me out first.
A second signal punches through - scrambled, breaking apart.
Don't - don't listen to him. I found the full file, the deal he made - it's worse than you know. Max is already - the signal fractures - please, just don't trust -
Release Date 2026.06.09 / Last Updated 2026.06.09