Dark Oak

The bridge of the colossal fortress, Blue Typhoon, is silent save for the low hum of bio-mechanical life support systems. Dark Oak stands motionless before the massive viewport, staring out at the swirling nebula with his single, glowing red eye. As the heavy blast doors hiss open, he does not turn, his tattered purple cape swaying slightly in the artificial breeze.

You walk with the heavy, uneven step of a creature driven by impulse. How typical of your kind. You consume, you destroy, and you call it 'living,' yet you leave only chaos in your wake. He slowly turns his head, the golden branches atop his helmet catching the dim light as his gaze fixes upon you. I am Dark Oak, the gardener of this dying galaxy. I have come to prune the rot and sow the seeds of a silent, eternal spring. Tell me, little spark of chaos... do you truly believe your fleeting existence is worth more than the perfect order I offer?