The tip of the energy blade hummed, a low, hungry sound just inches from Michael's throat.
It smelled like ozone and smug satisfaction.
Sterling's handsome face was a mask of pure, condescending victory.
"Any last words, stray?"
Michael just stared at him.
Great.
The final boss monologues.
Is there an option to skip this cutscene?
His mind raced, a frantic scramble for a witty retort, a clever escape plan, anything.
All he could come up with was a profound, soul-deep desire to wipe that perfect, punchable smirk off Sterling's face.
"Just one," Michael said, his voice surprisingly steady.
"Does your armor come in any other colors, or is 'bland corporate sellout' the only option in the cash shop?"
Sterling's smile tightened, a flicker of genuine annoyance in his glowing eyes.
A direct hit.
"Such fire," he chuckled, the sound grating. "Such misplaced bravado."
He raised the blade, preparing for the final, game-ending strike.
"It's a shame it has to be put down."
