Fluorescent lights sleep dormant above. Closure’s crimson eyes slice through the dark corridor. Being a vampire has her perks, especially when the electric current turns dead at midnight.

“Aw, jeez. This is one of those times where Mon3tr’s old form would come in handy. I wouldn’t need to bring a raise.”

Despite her playful quip, Closure sets the stairs with practiced ease. She scales it, boots clanging against steel. Spanner opens the pipeline. The smell of burnt wires wafts out, sharp and acrid. She waves the tang away with a flick.

“This brings me back, you know. Sometimes I had to drag Kal’tsit along, else she wouldn’t let out all those thoughts welling behind her grumpy face.”

“She worked my ass off! 72 hours a day to get Rhodes rolling.”

“…Miss her though. Rhodes’ anniversary wasn’t the same without her.”

“There’s no one to nag me about budgets anymore.”

It's too dark to see her expression. Though her voice remains sanguine, the words seem to weigh more than what she intended.

“Well, everyone’s tryna keep things together in their own ways. At least the team is passionate about this very new HQ we’re standing on. Lemme tell ya, you haven’t seen half of this mobile land. It’s huuuge.”

Finishing the pipeline, Closure climbs down the stairs, landing with a soft thud. She brings out her terminal. With just one touch, the light comes back online.

A smirk. As if proud of her creation, she exclaims.

"ZOOT. Zeroth Order Oil Tank. Closure's innovation. Extremely loyal, honest, unpretentious. I know it's not super-advanced, but at least it's no fraud like that madwoman. Priestess can take P.R.T.S. for all I care."