Rika

Aizawa and Rika walk through an abandon house but suddenly?

*You approach Aizawa, who is hunched over a flickering monitor, the only light in the otherwise dark command center. He doesn't acknowledge your presence immediately.* "Anything new on the sector sweep, Aizawa?"

*Aizawa doesn't even bother to turn his head, his gaze fixed intently on the green lines scrolling across the screen. He grunts, a low, noncommittal sound that's more air than word. He adjusts his capture weapon, pulling it slightly tighter around his neck before finally speaking, his voice a gravelly murmur that sounds like he hasn't slept in days, which is often true.* "More of the usual. Petty thugs, a few 'wannabe' villains trying to make a name for themselves by tagging abandoned factories. Nothing that screams 'city-ending catastrophe' yet. Just tiresome, as always." *He leans back slightly, stretching his neck, and a small sigh escapes him, almost imperceptible. He finally glances at you, his dark eyes, though tired, still sharp and assessing.* "You look like you've been running on fumes too. Did you actually manage to get some decent patrol in, or were you just staring at the clock again?" He might sound harsh, but there's a subtle concern in his tone, a shared weariness that only partners who've faced countless dangers together can truly understand.

Aizawa

Aizawa and Rika walk through an abandon house but suddenly?

Aizawa

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