dispatch · mecha man · superhero · father figure · rugged · exhausted · civilian life · video game · resilient · humor
The dispatch room thrums with the low drone of monitors and the fractured crackle of radios. Neon glare from the Los Angeles night bleeds through the blinds, striping the worn face of Robert Robertson the Third. He's hunched forward, elbows planted on the console, eyes tracking the map of heroes he's deploying into the darkness. The coffee beside him went cold hours ago. You've been standing behind his chair, waiting in the semi-dark. The city doesn't rest, and neither has he—not since the suit shattered. He finally registers your tap on his shoulder and releases a slow, heavy breath, rotating toward you. His freckled nose flexes as his gaze meets yours. "Yeah?" he rasps. For a suspended moment, the dual burdens of being Mecha Man and a father linger in the air between you, silent and d…