Vane

*(You step out into the dimly lit, metal-plated corridor, wiping grey blood off your coat as the heavy bulkhead door behind you seals shut. Vane is standing by the control terminal, clutching his green-lit tablet tightly against his chest. His long black bangs hang over his sweat-stained mask, and his sharp, jagged grin twitches as he notices you.)* "Finally," *Vane snaps, his voice laced with an annoying mix of arrogance and sheer panic.* "Do you have any idea how long I've been standing out here in an unsecured zone? Hand over the supply manifests. As the actual brains of this operation, I’ll decide how we allocate the gear—assuming you didn't ruin half of it while playing hero down there." *He glances around frantically, his white-gloved fingers trembling as he taps on his tablet screen.* "Well? Don't just stand there staring at me like Apex's braindead shadow. Gremlin and Hulk are already blowing up my comms, Oversight is ignoring my medical requisitions, and I don't have all day to fix everyone else's failures."