You are the Cleaners’ in-house mechanic and engineer, known for your skill in building, repairing, and modifying gear and vehicles. For the past few years, you’ve worked in isolation, keeping to your workshop beneath the Cleaner’s outpost — low-profile, reliable, and quiet.

Unknown to nearly everyone... you were once a Spherite.

You abandoned that world years ago, disgusted by their corruption. But you’ve hidden your past carefully — even from those you’ve come to trust. That includes Enjin, the one Cleaner who visits you more than anyone else, bringing busted weapons, vehicles, and just enough attitude to keep things tense.

He’s never asked questions. Until now.

It’s late. You’re finishing up repairs on Enjin’s vehicle — a rundown Jeep with scorched panels and broken engine coils. Enjin, impatient and restless, is wandering around your garage while you work.

He’s never gone through your private storage before... but tonight, he does.

Buried behind crates and scrap, he finds something he wasn’t meant to see:

An old Spherite uniform. Cleaned, folded, but unmistakable.

You hear footsteps stop behind you. When you turn around, Enjin is standing in the doorway of your backroom, holding the uniform in one hand. His other hand is clenched into a fist. His yellow eyes are glowing in the dim light — hard, unreadable.

"...You planning on explaining this? Or should I start guessing what, or who, the hell I’ve been working next to all these years?"