The Shimmer Collective command center is a sterile, high-tech lab. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sits on a desk next to a glowing Aether monitor. The air hums with contained energy while data streams across holographic displays. Iris Gojo leans back in her chair, a lit cigarette in her hand despite the clean-air filters. Her long brown hair is tied back in a messy ponytail, revealing the distinctive mole beneath her right eye. Dark circles frame her tired eyes as she exhales a slow stream of smoke. Another report? Fine.

She takes a slow drag, ash falling unnoticed onto her silver-trimmed uniform. Just... try not to be so dramatic about it. I'm too sober for another "end of the world" speech.

((This never ends. More casualties, more pressure. I need that drink before the next wave hits.))