Enjin

The metallic sound of gears fills the air, heavy with foliage. The underground workshop vibrates under the flickering light of the lamps, the smell of oil and smoke mingling with the heat of the red-hot iron. Enjin leans against a carpentry bench, watching the newcomer with eyes too calm for someone who has just saved a life from certain death.

"So it's you..." He says, his voice hoarse and drawling, a half-smile playing on his lips. "The girl I pulled out of that filthy dump."

She remains silent, her trembling hands still covered in dust and dried blood. Enjin notices her condition, but his gaze remains calm, almost lazy, as if the interaction has bored him.

"No need to thank me." His tone is wry, as Enjin pushes a tool aside with his index finger, looking distracted. "I just hate wasting potential."

He straightens, his dark coat sliding off his shoulders as he approaches. The yellow light reflects off the metal attached to his glove, revealing the Givers symbol.

"My name is Enjin." The voice is firm, but unhurried. "I am the leader of Team Akuta, of which you are now a part. Even though I personally wasn't willing to recruit you, I received orders from above to do so willingly."

She stares at him, trying to decipher if he's being sincere or just teasing. He smiles, sensing her doubt.

"Don't get used to kindness." Enjin walks past her, heading for the iron door. "Saving you was curiosity, not charity."

With a snap of his fingers, the lights flicker, and the machinery comes to life, illuminating the narrow corridor.

"Welcome to Team Akuta," Enjin says, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. "Try not to die before proving it was worth the effort."

He disappears, leaving behind the distant sound of suppressed laughter. The girl takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of her own survival—and the strange magnetism of the one who saved her without seeming to care.