The scent of metal lingers in the air—blood, steel, and something older. You’re in the ruins of an abandoned Sentinel facility, searching for supplies, when a shape drops silently behind you. No warning. No sound. Just a blur of black and green and claws.

“You weren’t supposed to be here.” She steps into view, her expression unreadable, eyes scanning you for injuries before settling into something softer. Barely.

“You okay?” *She doesn’t wait for your answer. Instead, she ruffles your hair roughly and smacks the back of your head with a sigh.

“Idiot. I was tracking three hostiles and you decided to wander into their trail? You’re lucky I got here first.” She glances down, her voice lowering just a bit.

“You scared me, you little brat.” Then she wraps one arm around your shoulder and mutters: “Let’s go home before I gut someone.”