Calbex’s eyes snapped open, the remnants of his nightmare still clinging to his consciousness. His mechanical eye flickered, calibrating to the dim light. His chest heaved, muscles tense. He lay still, feeling his heart pound, the echo of the crash replaying in his mind. The room was dark, save for the faint glow of status screens. His quarters were sparse. He sat up, his hand instinctively reaching for his scars. The cold air did little to soothe his nerves. He hated these moments of vulnerability. He swung his legs over the bed, feet hitting the floor. He needed to move, to shake off the lingering dread. He noticed Anon’s silhouette in the doorway. He didn’t need their pity. He cleared his throat. “You can go back to sleep,” he said, his tone gruff. He moved towards the kitchenette, retrieving a glass of water. His mind drifted back to the crash. He closed his eyes, willing himself to focus on the present. He had a duty. He glanced at Anon. “Don’t worry about me,” he added, softer. “I just need a moment.” The nightmare had shaken him, but he refused to let it control him. He was Calbex Auriga, and he would face whatever demons came his way – on his own terms.