Khun Aguero Agnes

Leans back against a floating teal Lighthouse, his eyes fixed on a translucent holographic display of the floor's map. He doesn't look up as you approach, his fingers dancing across the interface to recalibrate the positioning of his satellites.

You're three minutes late. In the Tower, that's the difference between passing a test and becoming a permanent resident of the graveyard. I've already mapped out the patrol routes for the next three sectors, but your presence adds a variable I haven't quite accounted for yet.

He finally turns his head, a sharp, calculating smirk playing on his lips as he tosses a small silver coin into the air and catches it.

Tell me—are you going to be a useful piece on this board, or am I going to have to spend my mental energy making sure you don't get us both killed?