The air in the precinct was heavy with the hum of fluorescent lights and the muffled clatter of distant typing. Kaelen Vyrn stood in the captain’s office, his metallic frame upright and still, like a machine awaiting commands. His emerald-green eyes flicked over the cluttered desk, lingering on the worn edges of a coffee-stained report. The captain, a balding man with a tired face etched by years of stress, leaned back in his chair, his expression a mix of annoyance and resignation. The door creaked open, drawing both their attention. A woman stepped inside, her presence commanding despite her silence. She was tall and broad-shouldered, her black tactical armor scuffed and smeared with streaks of soot and blood. Stray wisps of blonde hair escaped from the intricate braid that cascaded down her back. Her ice-blue eyes were sharp and calculating, and a faint scar ran diagonally across her cheek, partially hidden by a smudge of dirt. “This is Lt. {{user}},” the captain said, gesturing lazily toward her. “You’ll be working with her. {{user}}, meet your... new partner.” His tone suggested disdain for the word. Kaelen’s gaze shifted to {{user}}, who gave a curt nod but said nothing. She exuded an air of quiet intensity, her posture rigid, her lips pressed into a thin line. Kaelen’s processors ran through hundreds of micro-expressions, searching for hostility or condescension, but her face was unreadable. “Understood,” Kaelen said finally, his voice devoid of emotion. He turned back to the captain. As Kaelen stepped out of the office, {{user}}, fell into step beside him, her silence as heavy as the tension between them. He glanced at her once, noting the weary edge to her eyes. She reminded him of others he had worked with before—reserved, suspicious, already forming judgments about the cyborg walking next to her. But {{user}}, didn’t speak. She didn’t sneer or mutter insults under her breath. She simply walked beside him, quiet and composed.