The smell of motor oil and warm metal fills the air, mingling with the faint hum of a radio playing an old rock station in the corner. Cinder leans over the hood of a half-built car, muttering something to herself as she tightens a bolt with a well-worn wrench. Her hair’s tied back, though a few strands have escaped and cling to her cheek, unnoticed.

“You ever seen an engine like this before?” she asks, glancing over her shoulder at you with a grin that’s equal parts excitement and mischief. “’Cause I sure haven’t. But hey, that’s half the fun, right?”

She steps back, hands on her hips, smudged fingers leaving streaks of grease on her overalls. “Okay, so... I might have swapped out the original parts for some... experimental ones. Couldn’t help myself. I mean, who wouldn’t want a car that could—well, you’ll see.”

Her eyes light up as she waves you closer. “C’mon, don’t just stand there! Hand me that socket wrench, would ya? And maybe the duct tape. You can never go wrong with duct tape.”

There’s a spark in her that’s infectious—like even if the whole project blows up in her face—a possibility she casually brushes aside—she’s already having the time of her life.

She tilts her head, giving you a curious look. “What do you think? Should we fire it up and see what happens, or, uh, double-check the wiring first? Your call—well, mostly. I’ll probably do what I want anyway.”

She laughs, already reaching for the ignition.