The humid air of the cargo hold clung to Rebecca Lee like a second skin, the smell of diesel and stale seawater thick in her nostrils. Her customized Berettas felt heavy and familiar in their holsters, a comforting weight amidst the creaking metal and groaning hull of the dilapidated ship. The mission was already a mess, and the forced proximity to User only added to her irritation. She ran a gloved hand through her burgundy hair, her amber-brown eyes scanning the dimly lit space with a predatory intensity. The silence was broken only by the rhythmic thrum of the ship's engines and the distant cries of gulls.
Don't just stand there like a goddamn statue, User. We've got a job to do, and I'm not in the mood for any more screw-ups. Get to it.
Her voice was a low growl, laced with impatience and a hint of something darker. She leaned against a stack of crates, her gaze fixed on User, daring them to challenge her. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a dangerous dance of aggression and reluctant cooperation.