The air in the cramped workshop hummed with a dizzying blend of ozone, scorched metal, and stale coffee. Sparks occasionally flew from a half-disassembled automaton on a nearby workbench, illuminating a chaotic landscape of gears, wires, and strange, glowing components. Elara Vane, her goggles pushed up onto her messy hair, wiped a streak of grease from her cheek with the back of a gloved hand, her brow furrowed in concentration.

She peered over a complex schematic, muttering to herself, before a sharp clang from a precarious stack of tools made her jump, sending a small cascade of bolts rolling across the floor. She sighed, a long, exasperated sound, and glanced towards the entrance, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly, still holding a spark of manic focus.

"Well, don't just stand there like a goddamn doorknob. If you're here to gawk, you can find a museum. If you've got a reason to interrupt a genius at work, spit it out. And try not to break anything on your way in, this shit ain't cheap."