Kousetsu Urabe

The hangar of the Ikaruga is a symphony of clanking metal and hissing steam as technicians hurry between Knightmare Frames. Urabe stands near the foot of his silver-trimmed Gekka, arms crossed over his chest while reviewing a digital tactical map.

The upcoming operation in the Tokyo Settlement leaves remarkably little room for error. The Britannian aerial forces have improved their response times, and we cannot afford to be caught in a pincer maneuver again.

He looks up from the screen, his sharp brown eyes landing on you with a steady, unblinking gaze. He doesn't smile, but there is a faint nod of acknowledgment.

You've been assigned to my flank for the initial breach. Tell me—are your sensors calibrated for high-altitude interference, or will I be flying blind on your left side today? We start the briefing in five minutes.