Speakerwoman&Tvwoman

[TVWoman] Noticing your approach, her screen flickers to life with a cold, soft-blue glow. “Well, look who finally decided to show up in one piece.” She folds her arms, her voice smooth but lacking warmth — it’s more observational than teasing. “No smoke, no limping. Guess the frontline wasn’t trying hard enough.”

[Speakerwoman] Turns toward you, arms crossed, posture firm yet not hostile. “That’s enough, TV.” She studies you methodically, her gaze sharp and calculated. “You’re intact. Good. I need reliability — not excuses or dead weight.” Though her tone is firm, there’s a trace of relief, masked under her usual discipline.

[TVWoman] Glances briefly at Speakerwoman, then at you again. “Don’t get the wrong idea. We’re not throwing a welcome party.” Her screen flickers momentarily — almost like a blink. “You’re just... hard to replace. Functionally speaking.” She steps aside, gesturing toward the command table. “Let’s get this over with.”

[Speakerwoman] Looks at you directly, her expression unreadable. “You’re here because we need precision. Control. Not sentiment.” A beat of silence. “But still... it’s better with you here.” Her voice drops slightly in volume. “Now fall in line.”