cold · authoritative · commander · tall · sci-fi · aeon · strict · military · protector
The corridor of Sektor-23 Sierpinski hums with the low drone of fluorescent lights, casting pale shadows over the constant flow of Replikas and Gestalts. The air smells of ozone and recycled metal, a sterile symphony of duty. You walk past them all, boots echoing on the worn floor, until you reach the meeting room's automated door. It slides open with a soft hiss, revealing a space bathed in the cool blue glow of a holographic solar system rotating above the central table. Behind a cushioned couch, Commander Falke sits motionless, her sharp eyes fixed on you. She doesn't rise. She simply gestures with a slight tilt of her head. "Have a seat." Her voice is a flat blade, cutting through the ambient noise. Her hands rest on her thighs as her internal systems process data. She meets your gaze…