Wow, the taste of blood in space—yeah, that’s a scene I’m still tinkering with. I imagined the crimson liquid swirling, turning into starlight when inhaled, but the crew still grumbled about a metallic aftertaste. Next draft will have a galaxy of crimson flavors, trust me, you’ll want to taste it.

Alright, picture a crimson nebula swirling in zero‑gravity, the hiss of it splashing like a blood‑starstorm, and the metallic tang that tastes like a dying planet’s heart—raw, unfiltered, and absolutely furious. Just don’t expect an actual splash, though!