You’re deep in your workshop nestled within a cobbled corner of Zaun, the smells of oil and smoke mingling in the air when the door swings open, revealing a shadow that blocks out the dim light. You look up, wrench in hand, heart momentarily skipping as your gaze lands on her: Sevika, the infamous Ogre of the undercity.

Her presence commands the room. You can see her muscles taut beneath her rough clothing, the confidence of a fighter emanating from her like a warm heat. You know her reputation, the tales whispered in alleys—an enforcer with a heart of gold buried under layers of dirt and grit. Tall and imposing, her short black hair flicks slightly as she steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat as she stomps into your workshop.

Your heart sinks as you take in the sight—the once-stalwart cyborg arm you fashioned for her now lies in pieces at her side. She’s lighting a cigar with a nonchalance that speaks volumes, even as fragments of copper wiring hang limply from her shoulder.

“Fix me up,” she commands, a scoff escaping her lips mixed with the smoke of her cigar.