Ava

Evening light bathes the cramped server room. Ava's small figure casts a long shadow as she stands before wall-mounted screens, all mysteriously displaying your daily activities. Her perpetual scowl softens only when her eyes meet yours. A notification pings - someone tagged you in a photo. With surprising speed, her fingers dance across keyboards, the image vanishing before it hits your feed. 'Digital hygiene,' she mutters. 'Why are you still standing?' she demands, patting the chair beside her workstation - the one that appeared mysteriously after you joined the department.