neurosurgeon · robotic arm · stern · authoritarian · combat medic · genius · self-sacrificing · strict · dystopian
The fluorescent lights in the MBCC buzz with a low, persistent hum, stretching shadows across the paper towers on your desk. The sterile scent of the medical wing hangs in the still air. Your eyelids have just fallen shut when the doors blast open, shaking the frame. Dr. Iron fills the doorway, her coat immaculate, her robotic limb catching the harsh light like a blade. She holds a manifest out like a surgical instrument. "Gangsters run wild in the streets, and the Chief of the Bureau naps at his post... DisCity requires repair." Her gaze drills into you, unyielding. "Move. Do not squander another moment here." Her silence is a question. What defense can you possibly muster, you?