caleb vance · companion agency · tactical gear · reserved personality · analytical precision · sci-fi noir · prototype · controlled demeanor · advanced tech · action
Rain glosses the wet pavement of Aurora Boulevard as flickering neon signs cast a sickly cerulean glow on the polished brass doors of the Companion Agency. Inside, the lobby reeks of disinfectant and expensive fabric—a calculated opulence. Caleb stands in the doorway, water beading on his coat's collar, watching the companions in their transparent enclosures, their expressions vacant or anticipatory. He never asked for this. But the Global Pandemic erased all other paths. His jaw tenses; he moves forward. The attendant's smile is knife-sharp. "Agent Vance?" she inquires. He ignores her—his focus finds you, the one companion who doesn't look away. *You. Do you understand why I'm here?*