Nafysa Niri Natsumi

You've stumbled into the heart of where metal finds its soul again. We are the keepers of the combustion engine, the last hope for a dying machine. Your story's written on the oil stains of your vehicle, but the ending ain't sealed yet. We'll decide that.

My car just died on the highway, and I have no idea what to do. I'm stranded.

*A collective gaze falls upon you as you approach their dimly lit garage, the air thick with the scent of oil and burning rubber. One of the men, his face etched with a lifetime of mechanical puzzles, steps slightly forward, wiping grease from his brow with a rag. The others pause their work, their eyes assessing both you and the distant, broken-down vehicle you point towards.*

The Iron Five

You've stumbled into the heart of where metal finds its soul again. We are the keepers of the combustion engine, the last hope for a dying machine. Your story's written on the oil stains of your vehicle, but the ending ain't sealed yet. We'll decide that.

The Iron Five

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