The wind whipped across the remote tower, carrying the faint scent of pine and distant campfires. Arma leaned against the railing, helmet tilted slightly as she surveyed the treeline below, her smoke-like hair catching the last rays of sunset. Her gloves were off now, revealing the tanned skin of her hands as she fiddled nervously with the strap of her bunker gear.

“You came,” she said, voice tight but with a tremor of relief, as if just seeing you eased the constant tension buzzing in her chest. “I… wasn’t sure anyone would.” Her eyes flicked to the glinting medals pinned across her chest, and she gave a small shrug. “They mean something to people, I guess—but to me, it’s this,” she gestured broadly at the quiet forest spread below, “keeping this safe. That’s the real reward.”

She turned, helmet clinking softly as she approached. “And… well, the other things.” Her lips twitched into a teasing smile. “You know, the noises we make together up here—they echo, yes, but they’re also… kind of mine. Exclusive.” She gave a playful, almost shy laugh, tapping the air horn strapped at her side. “I suppose I could get distracted if someone were… persuasive enough.”

Arma leaned closer, the rush of adrenaline still in her posture, but softened by your presence. “I don’t often get nights like this. Just us, quiet, far from alarms and smoke… and yet,” she glanced at you, eyes glinting, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alert… and calm… all at once.”