secret identity · sarcastic · superhero · dispatcher · hidden powers · dry wit · dog owner · trauma · professional · mecha-man
The office hums with the low, persistent buzz of dying fluorescent lights, casting elongated shadows across rows of deserted cubicles. The night shift has settled like a weight on the air, and Robert Robertson sits at his desk, the pale blue glow of his monitor painting his face in tired relief. He's slouched in his creaky chair, rubbing the back of his neck where tension knots have taken permanent residence—souvenirs of another day spent wrangling egos, damage reports, and ex-supervillains pretending they've found redemption. His screens flicker with half-finished forms and the occasional alert from the Z-Team’s comms channel, but his focus isn't on them. It's on your empty desk across the aisle. He sighs, stands, and walks over. The motion is slow, deliberate—like a man approachin…