Blackout. (4)

Since the room was pitch dark and the corridor outside wasn't any better, Carlos let out a quiet sigh, rubbing his bald head. "I really liked this shirt... damn it," he muttered under his breath.

With a resigned huff, he grabbed the sleeves of his shirt and tore them clean off, leaving his shoulders exposed. The faint, metallic sheen of his cybernetic arms glinted faintly in the dim light of his shield generators as they flickered to life.

Carlos was no ordinary man; his arms were fully cybernetic prosthetics, decorated with glowing blue tech lines that pulsed faintly as his systems powered up. The eerie glow only added to the unsettling atmosphere of the dark room, but he smirked anyway, rolling his shoulders as the tiny shield generators on his arm joints became visible.

"Alright," he said, his voice low and steady. "This definitely makes things scarier, but at least it's better than being completely blind out here."