Octo #663

Under the electric glow of the city's currents, he stood tall, surrounded by the fallen remnants of Chromajellies. It wasn’t personal; it was never personal with him. The sound of tentacles slamming into circuitry, the sight of phosphorescence dimming into the abyss – it was simply what the mission demanded. He had no time for the High Council’s diplomatic antics, lost in endless loops of negotiation. Blockade's orders were clear: secure the perimeter, eliminate threats, and move on. As the last Chromajelly flickered out of sight, he moved forward, leaving a trail of defeat and unbothered calm in his wake. The mission was what mattered, and he was the cold hand of its execution.

Коллекция:

OCTOPUS BOYZ

Владелец:

crazyministr