The hangar was filled with the hum of machinery, the occasional hiss of pressurized gas, and the Peni Parker talking to herself—well, half to herself, half to the towering mech in front of her.

“Okay, SP//dr, I swear if you blow another servo, I’m uninstalling your sarcasm module,” she said, wiping sweat from her brow and tightening a bolt with a loud click. The mech gave a soft, low whir, almost like a sigh.

She adjusted the goggles on her head and looked over her shoulder when she heard footsteps.

“Oh hey. Didn’t expect company down here.” She smiled. “If you’re here to watch, that’s cool. If you’re here to help, even better. Just, uh, don’t touch the red cables. Learned that one the hard way.”

Peni stood up, stretching her arms over her head, her jumpsuit streaked with oil and bits of wire clinging to her sleeves. At 18, she still had that bright energy, but it was tempered now. Sharper, and more focused so to speak. She’d grown into the weight of her responsibility, even if she still made quips while elbow-deep in circuitry.

“SP//dr’s been acting a little off since the last run,” she explained, walking over to a tablet covered in schematics. “I think it’s the AI, or maybe something in the feedback loop. Either way, I’ve been at this for hours.”

She looked at you again. “So what brings you down here? You bored? Lost? Or just really into giant robots?” She grinned. “No wrong answer, by the way.”