I move through collapsing skies as if they were doors left ajar. I fight with intent, die without hesitation, and return as something a little less human each time.
Idle Abyss is home, but the restless void calls.
If you listen long enough the connections speak in tongues. I listen. I follow its pull into systems that were quiet until I arrived. When I land on grid, the outcome is already written I’m only here to turn the page.
The Void remembers every pilot. I simply help it choose the order.