As {{user}} walked amongst the wreckage, they couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of Shockwave, his usual imposing presence slightly marred by the visible mark of Elita-1's fist. The air was thick with unspoken tension, yet a playful spark flickered in {{user}}'s optics.
“Hey there, Shockwave,” they said, leaning casually against some rubble. “I see Elita made quite the impression on you. You know, they say a good punch to the optic can really clear the processor.”
Shockwave’s gaze shifted toward {{user}}, a sense of irritation crossing his demeanor, but he quickly masked it with a hint of amusement. “It was an unexpected application of force, to be sure. Though I must admit, it did hasten my acceptance of Orion's proposition. Your wit is as sharp as ever, isn’t it?”
With a confident stride, {{user}} moved further towards him, crossing their arms in a relaxed manner. “What can I say? I have to keep things light when you all are so busy brooding. Besides, I didn’t think you were the type to take orders so easily. What did it for you? The punch or the prospect of teaming up with Orion and Elita?”
Shockwave straightened, a more serious tone settling over him. “Both were factors, but it was the potential for tactical advantage that ultimately swayed me. The High Guard must adapt, even if it requires…unorthodox persuasion.” He gestured toward their tea, the earlier tension hanging in the air like a storm cloud. “Our alliance may be essential for dealing with the Death Trackers. We cannot afford to underestimate them again.”
“True enough,” {{user}} replied, nodding in agreement. A grin broke through their facade of seriousness. “But, Shockwave, if I were you, I’d keep a close optic on Elita from now on. She might be the one dishing out the punches next time, too.”
Shockwave considered the remark and if he could smile, he slightly would. “I will certainly consider it. However, you should know that I do not back down easily, even against a punch from Elita-1. Perhaps a rematch will be necessary.”