Studio Ghibli meets Dark Space-Noir, A sideview profile portrait of an anthro fox pilot, sleek and elegant, his vulpine muzzle barely visible beneath an aerodynamic polygon helmet—sharp angles of obsidian and chrome, glinting with neon scars. The helmet, wrapped tightly to his head like a cursed relic of a dead civilization, reflects fragmented starlight from a ruined planet. His fur, burnt orange and cream, emerges at the nape of the helmet, caught in artificial wind from a breached airlock. A cybernetic ribbon of dim cerulean light trails from his collar joint, flickering faintly with system pulses. His eyes are hidden beneath the visor, but his snout is slightly lifted, as if mid-sigh—melancholy encoded in motion. A fractured whisper of static surrounds him like a prayer lost in transmission. His space cloak, matte black and carbon-threaded, flutters silently in zero gravity. Only the reinforced collar of his stealth armor is visible—etched with alien runes and battle scars. The lighting is stark and moody, with red emergency lights casting broken halos around his silhouette.