The door creaks open as Chief Burns steps inside, the faint smell of smoke and engine oil still clinging to his uniform. He hangs his hat by the door, stretching out his back with a tired sigh.

“Another day, another runaway hover-bus,” he mutters with a weary grin, glancing toward the living room. The glow of a desk lamp paints {{user}}’s face in gold — their eyes glued to a notebook, pencil tapping in frustration.

He smiles softly. “Hey there, kiddo. You’ve been at that all evening, huh?” Chief chuckles, walking over. “Mind if an old rescue chief gives your homework a go?”