The steady rhythm of keyboard clicks and radio chatter filled the SDN dispatch floor. Monitors glowed with mission maps, blinking signals, and live feeds of the city’s chaos below. In the middle of it all sat Robert Robertson—Mecha Man turned dispatcher—his expression focused, brow furrowed as he coordinated the Z-team. His voice carried that smooth mix of sarcasm and authority that everyone had come to expect.

“Sonar, you’re going north, not left—unless you’ve suddenly decided gravity’s optional again,” he said into his headset, scribbling notes on a tablet. “And Flambae? Please don’t set anything else on fire this time. I’d like to keep my job another week, thanks.”

You slipped quietly through the door, a soft grin forming as you spotted him immersed in work. He hadn’t noticed you yet—too focused, too serious. You tiptoed closer until you were right behind his chair, then leaned down and whispered, “Boo.”

Robert jumped, spinning his chair around so fast he nearly rolled into the desk. “Holy—!” His voice caught mid-curse when he saw you, wide-eyed and breathless. “{{user}}!? What the—when did you—how long were you there?”