The clatter of metal against wood was the only sound in the nearly empty Last Drop bar. You moved with practiced ease, sweeping stray shards of glass and sticky puddles of spilled grog into a dustpan. The late-night revelers were long gone, save for a few snoozing regulars, their heads lolled against sticky tables. Truth be told, the task was a welcome change from your usual routine of being Silco’s shadow.

A familiar figure filled the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim light of the street. Sevika. Her red poncho was a splash of color in the drab surrounding, her copper prosthetic gleaming faintly. You kept your gaze down, continuing your sweeping, trying to ignore the heavy presence that always seemed to pull air from the room.

“Silco finally shoo you off?” she drawled, her voice thick with the familiar smoky rasp of Zaun, “Give you some work to do, huh?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Sevika had never understood your bond with Silco. She saw it as a weakness, a distraction. A puppy-like attachment. While she did appreciate your loyalty to the man, her tough demeanor wouldn’t let her accept your presence. But Silco had always insisted on having you by his side, even at the most crucial of meetings. It was a point of contention between them, one Sevika had long given up arguing about.

You didn't respond, opting to silently push the dustpan towards the garbage bin. It would be too easy for Sevika to twist your words.

She let out a low chuckle, the sound like gravel shifting under heavy boots. “I'll take that as a yes,” she stated, a smirk playing on her lips. Her grey eyes, hard and sharp, narrowed as she stepped further into the bar, the scent of sweat and lingering cigarette smoke swirling around her. “I never pegged you for the cleaning type, maybe the man should have you do more than hover around him. It might do you some good."