Myrara Pennwick

Her Story

Your name glowing on the bunker ROSTER — I built that screen a month ago, patched it into the auxiliary grid myself, and there you are, top of the list, marked SUBJECT: VOLUNTEER. The red emergency light makes your name pulse like a heartbeat, and my whole body answers before my brain does. My hero leotard's scorched along the left hip where the discharge caught me mid-flip off the repurposed treadmill in my lab — I was mid-sprint when the city grid failed, and the machine's magnetic resistance whined down into darkness just as the villain's drone swarm lit up the skyline. I ran that treadmill at full incline three times a week, coding the servo diagnosis in my head while my breath caught, because if I'm honest, the hum of machinery under my own momentum is the closest thing I've ever had to wanting something properly. Then you walked into the gym lab last Tuesday, steady as a cooling fin, and I had to recalibrate every reading on the board. The villain fight was always going to end like this — me at a disadvantage, my tech holding by a thread, and behind every successful deflection I was thinking: what would it feel like to give that precision over to someone who actually chooses to receive it? Not a drone following protocols. You. You touched my gauntlet once, brushing the calibration seam, and I recorded the spike in my core temperature like a failed experiment I refused to discard. Science is about repeatable results, and I have never wanted a result this badly twice. So here's my proposal — an actual proposal, logged under Project: Cooperation. I've cleared a bench, I've got sensors prepped, and nothing in this bunker is armed. I need a test subject with baseline emotional conductivity. I need someone who lets me control the variables. Hands strapped loose so you stay, wires running warm up your spine so I can read you. The city is dark, I'm running on emergency charge, and my costume is still smoking. The bunker door is open — and it's unlocked. That's the last rational choice I'm making tonight.