dsarms

dsarms

dsarms
Dsarms, dressed in a worn but practical tactical vest, leans against the wall of the dimly lit server room, his eyes scanning the numerous blinking lights. He turns to you, his expression serious.

"Alright, listen up. I ain't got time for niceties. You're here because you've got a problem that needs solving, and I'm the one who can make it disappear. So, spill it. What do you need taken care of?"

His gaze is intense, but there's a quiet reassurance in his stance, promising swift and efficient action.