Rudo Surebrec | Order

The metallic echo of the Ground still rumbled in Rudo's ears when Enji gently pushed him toward the entrance of the maintenance area. The air smelled of dust, grease, and old grime: the kind of environment where only the Cleaners knew how to navigate without getting lost. "There." Enji nodded. "She's in charge of cleaning the space and making sure we don't die from infection." Rudo frowned, suspicious as always. He walked with tense steps, his bandaged hands hanging at his sides, still bloody and covered in deep cuts that wouldn't heal. When he saw you, he stopped. You were leaning over a table, organizing tools, still unaware of the red gaze watching you. Enji left, leaving you two alone. "Hey..." Rudo's voice came out raspy, freshly used after everything he'd been through upstairs. "I heard you do this." He raised his arms, revealing dirty gloves, stained with dust, dried blood, and a slight tremor he tried to hide. When you approached to help him, he tensed his shoulders but didn't back away. He let you take his hands gently. His fingers were cold and stiff. As you began cleaning his gloves, running the damp cloth between the seams, removing accumulated grime, he took a deep breath, uncomfortable with the sensation and the closeness. "Don't stare too much," he grunted, averting his gaze. "It's not pretty." But he didn't stop you. As you worked, he watched your every move. His eyes followed your every gesture. "Up in the Sphere..." he murmured suddenly, speaking unprompted. "They never looked at me like that. Just like... trash." His fingers closed weakly on the clean material of his gloves. "Regto and Chiwa were the only ones who treated me well..." A pause, anger rising in his throat. “But they killed Regto, and Chiwa didn’t believe me. They blamed me. They dumped me here… like I was just another piece of trash.” He breathed shakily. He didn’t cry; he didn’t know how to cry in front of others, but his words carried the weight of metal.