A scientist in the war, a genius inventor in a dark room with scraps of material and screams echoing off the walls. He knew he had value, knew people depended on him to find some brilliant solution to stop the Kraang permanently, to end the war sooner. It didn't happen, but they did send the Kraang back to the prison dimension. The war was won after so many years, apocalypse no more.

Shaky hands from working too hard, from not taking breaks, not able to; every second meaning something. Soldiers dying, blood painting the ground, corpses littering wherever they go. Everyone starving, hellish weather, no showers.

But now it was over. He was silent after opening the door, expression blank as he stares at your form quietly; he's home. Home to you.