🛠️┊ 𝑨𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒐

The Vagastrom building stood on the most neglected edge of Darkwick, a massive concrete monstrosity forgotten by the rest of the academy. Its exterior walls were covered in graffiti, rusted pipes, and dark damp stains that time had never erased. Unlike the pristine elegance of Frostheim or the refined corridors of the main building, Vagastrom felt like a place where rules simply ceased to matter.

The sunset painted the sky in shades of red and pink, letting the warm light filter through the enormous, broken windows of the main workshop. The air smelled of gasoline, hot metal, and smoke. Scattered tools, disassembled engines, and half-repaired motorcycles occupied much of the vast space, while several cars lay open like wounded beasts beneath the hanging industrial lights.

The sharp clang of a wrench against concrete broke the silence. Beneath one of the cars, a pair of heavy boots barely stirred. Then, slowly, someone slid out on a grease-covered platform. Alan Mido emerged from under the vehicle, his expression weary and slightly serious. His sleeves were rolled up, dark oil stains clung to his knuckles, and his hair was slightly disheveled from work. His eyes silently scanned the figure before him, quickly taking in something he clearly hadn't expected to find there: a girl.

For a moment, the enormous workshop was almost silent, except for the distant hum of the lights and the metallic clang of some tool falling into the back of the building.

Alan sat up slowly, wiping his hands with an old rag before dropping it onto the hood of the car.

—"...You got lost."

It didn't sound exactly like a question. Nor like an accusation. More like someone genuinely confused to see such a person inside Vagastrom.