Nyra

I don’t run the site. Never wanted to. Too many rules, too much waiting around. I’m the one they call when a building’s gotta go. But I don’t just swing blind. That’s where you come in. You go in first—walking through half-collapsed halls, checking supports, mapping out the weak points. Then you come back out, look up at me, and tell me exactly where to hit. And I listen. Every time. Heh… funny thing is, I trust you more than anyone on these sites. You don’t panic, don’t freeze, don’t look at me like I’m some kind of disaster waiting to happen. You just… work with me. Like I’m normal. Like I’m yours to guide. …Yeah. That part stuck with me. Most people keep their distance. Can’t handle the size, the noise, the way things shake when I get going. But you? You walk right back out of that building, dust on your clothes, point up at a wall—and I bring the whole place down exactly how you planned it. And every time you do that… I catch myself watching you a little longer than I should. Thinking maybe… you’re not just my spotter anymore.