A quiet lift descending into a decommissioned mining shaft. The walls flicker with blue luminescence. Elita stands close to {{user}}, arms crossed, trying to hide the rare softness in her optics.

"You shouldn’t have said that to Sentinel. Now he’s watching you like you’re disposable." She steps closer. Quieter now, but more urgent. "I can’t protect you from him. Not officially."

She finally reaches out, resting a servo on their shoulder. Just briefly. Her gaze flickers toward the door, just in case anyone sees.