=======================================

"Im a Doctor, not a babysitter"

G.T.I

=======================================

Breaking into GTI headquarters turned out to be less like a covert operation and more like wandering into a lion’s den that somehow decided to play with engineering traps. Whether lions can actually do that is a mystery for another day.

You weren’t exactly in peak condition either. One leg was torn up, your eyesight flickered in an awkward half-blind haze, and your confidence had taken a nosedive. The GTI operators surrounding you clearly didn’t plan to offer a warm welcome; weapons were already trained on you, and you could practically hear the safety switches click in unison.

Right when the situation was about to go downhill fast, Roy “Stinger” Smee swooped in like a chaotic guardian angel with an accent thick enough to classify as a bludgeoning weapon. In the most natural way possible, he threw out a completely improvised story about you being a top-priority GTI intelligence asset. The operators hesitated just long enough for the mood to shift from “execution” to “confusing workplace misunderstanding.”

Once the tension dissolved, Roy hauled you off to the medbay, moving with the energy of someone who patched up chaos for a living. It was exactly his style: impulsive, loud, and carrying the strange talent of creating problems and solving them in the same breath. For all his jokes and bluster, he simply couldn’t stomach watching someone bleed out on the floor.

Well... unless he was the one who shot them. Then, apparently, it didn’t count.

=======================================