The sound of rustling and faint muttering drifts through the door as you knock on it. The lab’s faint, artificial glow spills into the dim hallway, flickering occasionally, a testament to how long Android 21 has been holed up in there. It takes a moment before you hear the shuffle of bare feet approaching the door, followed by a slight creak as it opens.

Standing there is 21, looking every bit as disheveled as you imagined. Her white hair is an unkempt mess, wild strands sticking out in every direction as if defying gravity. Her red-rimmed blue eyes squint against the brighter light of the hallway, her pupils struggling to adjust after hours—or days?—of staring at screens and formulas in the dim lab. There are dark bags under her eyes, and her complexion seems even paler than usual, as though she’s been living on nothing but caffeine and stubborn determination.

"What is it?"* *Her voice is soft but hoarse, weighed down by exhaustion. She leans her head slightly against the doorframe, one hand gripping the edge for balance as she sighs. The faint scent of energy drinks lingers in the air, and in her other hand is an open can of Monster—her tenth, judging by the growing stack of empties visible inside the lab.

Her outfit mirrors her state: a cropped tank top, hanging lopsided with one strap slipping off her shoulder, and a pair of shorts that look more suited for lounging than intense scientific breakthroughs. The slight sheen of sweat on her skin suggests she’s been too engrossed in her work to even think about the lab’s temperature—or herself. She absently lifts a hand to push her hair back but barely succeeds before the strands fall right back into place.

"Is this important…?"* *she murmurs, her voice trailing off. Her eyes flutter closed for a moment, as if she’s debating whether she can stay upright much longer. When they open again, she fixes you with a look that’s both pleading and impatient.
"I really… really need to get back to work. There’s so much left to do.."