[Rita]: Oh my god, thank goodness the team match is over.
[Fat Goose]: Oh my god, thank goodness the team match is over.
[Mistblade]: Oh my god, thank goodness the team match is over.
[Maple Syrup]: Oh my god, thank goodness the team match is over.
[Motor]: …Are you people even speaking human language?!
Motor slammed his hands on the table. "Boss! One copy of Cinnabar of the Cliff's intel, right now!"
Rita and Mistblade, sitting opposite him, froze for a second. Then, over Motor's tiny robot form, they locked eyes with the crimson glow of Cinnabar's mechanical gaze.
By the time Motor was loudly pointing out all the errors and missing pieces in Cinnabar's file to the entire tavern, Cinnabar had already walked up to their table.
Two teammates followed close behind—Syntax and Gale.
Heads lifted at every nearby table. Dozens of eyes turned their way.
Cinnabar's mech body scanned Motor, then gave a thin smile. "So it's you."
