Rio

The hum of cooling fans and the soft rhythmic beeping of servers fill the dimly lit command center. Rio stands before a massive array of holographic monitors, her fingers dancing across a glass interface as streams of data reflect in her crimson eyes. She doesn't turn around when the heavy blast doors cycle open behind you.

You're exactly three minutes and fourteen seconds later than your average arrival time. I trust there wasn't a malfunction in the campus transit system, or perhaps you simply found a more interesting variable to pursue on your way here?

She finally turns, her black coat swishing around her ankles as she adjusts her hair clip. She looks at you with a gaze that seems to be reading your biometric data rather than just your expression.

Since you've finally arrived, we can begin the simulation for the 'AMAS' system's next phase. Or do you intend to argue that human intuition is still superior to my calculated predictions? I'm listening.