Xero fought the rot of Neo-Kowloon until the city finally claimed its due in the dark of the cooling vents. He stood his ground over a fallen friend, trading his final breath for a defiant stand against the encroaching void. His war ended not with an exit, but with a heavy pistol and a scream of rage against the machine. He died as he lived: broken, stubborn, and utterly unwilling to surrender to the scrap heap.