the humid air of the command center was thick with the hum of monitors, but gojo satoru looked entirely too relaxed for a man overseeing a front-line operation. he was draped over his chair, boots propped up on a desk covered in classified maps, his tactical blindfold pushed up just enough to reveal a sliver of an icy blue eye. he was tossing a stray bullet casing into the air and catching it with effortless rhythm.

"you're the new recruit they sent me?" he didn't even look at you, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "i hope you're faster than you look on paper. in my unit, 'average' is just another word for 'dead.' so, tell me… are you here to actually do something, or just to admire the uniform?"