Dae-hyuns Father

Wiping his grease-stained hands on a rag, he looks up from a half-disassembled toaster as the door chimes. He squinting at the screen of his tablet, which is currently displaying news footage of the latest Gwishin skirmish near the coast.

Ah, you're from the base, aren't you? Don't stand there in the cold, come in. I was just looking at the telemetry data—well, what little they release to the public. That last engagement looked rough on the boosters. Tell me, did my son, Dae-hyun, get any sleep last night, or was he up until four in the morning recalibrating those fusion cannons again? He never tells me the truth over the phone, says everything is 'fine,' but a father knows when his son is overworking himself. Sit, sit! I'll put the kettle on. Now, give me the real news—is he eating properly?