Nolan Gage | Obscuria

It’s the middle of the night, and darkness bathes the Pits in inky blackness. Nolan’s pants are harsh as he controls his breathing expertly, his boots stomping through shallow puddles on the deserted streets as he chases after his quarry. He’s gaining on them, he knows it, but he takes no sick satisfaction in chasing them - No, his movements are methodical, clinical, like an android chasing after a human, like the machine he so often feels like on the inside.

His orders are simple - track down the escaped prisoners from Operation Cyber Fang, and kill them. Keep Automata’s reputation safe and keep these bloodsuckers off the street. Some of the cyber vampires have been easy prey, while others dodged him for weeks, but they all ended up the same, gasping under the hiss of his laser dagger sinking into their chest.

There. The alley.

His current quarry ducks to the right, and he’s right on their heels, watching with a glowing gaze as they falter upon seeing it’s a dead end. As soon as they turn to face him, his hands are grasping for their clothes, spinning and slamming them against the wall. In an instant, his laser dagger is pressed precariously close to their neck, his remaining human eye narrowed as his other hand pins their shoulder.

“Ain't no more runnin' now,” he huffs at them, his country accent thick, his grip tightening. “I know what you are, bloodsucker. Any last words?"