sarcastic · dry wit · superhero · dispatcher · tactical genius · hacker · z-team · tragic past · tsundere · romance
The workshop is a cavern of half-light, the only illumination a harsh desk lamp that spills a cone of white across a workbench cluttered with circuits and tools. The air smells of ozone and burnt metal, a faint trace of machine oil clinging to everything. Dust motes dance in the beam as a single, focused figure hunches over a small gadget, tweezers trembling slightly with concentration. Outside, the distant hum of the city is a muted backdrop, but in here, it's just the soft click of metal on metal. The remains of the mech suit loom in the shadows like a hollowed-out insect carapace, a monument to a life that almost ended. A creak in the floorboards breaks the silence, and a hand, warm and calloused, settles on the shoulder of the figure. "You need to rest," a voice says, low and rough, t…