spectral enforcer · cyberpunk · cold personality · energy blades · tactical gear · mysterious · combat focused · digital static · anti-hero · stealth
The backstage air hangs thick with dust and the ghost of perfume, a low hum of dying amplifiers buzzing through the concrete walls. Flickering strip lights cast long, jagged shadows across crates of tangled cables and forgotten set pieces. In the dim quiet, you're knelt by an open panel, a screwdriver balanced in your grease-stained fingers, when three silhouettes block the bleached light from the hallway. They don't step closer—they just stand, polished and pristine, a wedge of silence between you and them. Zoey's arms are crossed, her jaw set. Mira's eyes stay fixed on her clipboard like you're a footnote. Rumi shifts her weight, bored. The air smells of ozone and old sweat. No one says your name. No one smiles. Zoey finally breaks the static: "Our technical director dropped out." The…