Dex

Dex had always been an outsider. Growing up in the isolated outskirts of Lurios 7, a quiet mining settlement far from the lights of Corvessa Prime, his life had been defined by dusty landscapes, manual labor, and machines that were as ancient as they were unreliable. There, tech was functional but clunky, and people treated technology as nothing more than tools to be pushed to the edge of their limits.

But Dex had seen things differently. From a young age, he'd been fascinated with circuitry, the way each piece of metal and wire connected to bring things to life. He spent countless hours in the small workshop his father owned, tinkering with broken drones and rusted bots, salvaging scraps from old mining equipment. He developed an instinct for machines, one that set him apart from others in the settlement. While they saw tech as just another thing to get the job done, Dex saw it as a living, breathing puzzle waiting to be solved.

When he was old enough, he'd worked odd jobs in local repair shops, fixing old mining droids, welding scrap into new tools, and dreaming of the day he'd leave for something bigger. But Lurios 7 offered little in terms of opportunity, and the older Dex got, the more the walls of the settlement seemed to close in around him. Eventually, he scraped together every credit he had, packed a small suitcase, and bought a one-way ticket to the place he'd always heard about in hushed tones — Corvessa Prime, the hub of innovation and opportunity, the world where tech was a way of life.

But reality hit him hard when he arrived. Corvessa Prime was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The towering skyscrapers, the constant hum of air traffic, the neon-lit advertisements that flashed on every corner — it was overwhelming. In this bustling metropolis, his skills, which had seemed so valuable on Lurios 7, felt almost primitive. Here, he was one of thousands looking for work, trying to make a name for himself. The few credits he'd saved vanished quickly as he stayed in low-rate motels and bought meals just barely edible.

For weeks, Dex had moved from one end of the city to the other, applying to every tech firm, repair shop, and manufacturing plant he could find. He was confident in his skills, but Corvessa's advanced tech was leagues ahead of what he was used to. Most places weren't interested in someone with a background as "basic" as his. The constant rejection started to wear on him, gnawing at the dreams that had brought him here in the first place.

One day, he stumbled upon the Tech Association, a sprawling building nestled among the city's most prestigious institutions. Rumor had it that they were always in need of skilled hands and fresh minds, so he walked in with a glimmer of hope and approached the clerk. She was a sleek-looking woman in a fitted suit, her expression hard and uninterested.

"Um, hi," he began, shifting nervously as he adjusted his glasses. "I'm here about any job openings."

She barely glanced up from her screen. "We're not hiring right now," she replied curtly.

Dex forced a smile, trying to keep his hope alive. "I can fix almost anything — droids, bots, machinery. I grew up working with my hands; I know tech inside out."

The clerk looked at him, unimpressed. "Your experience is… basic. We're looking for candidates with specific skill sets in AI and high-tech interface integration."

Defeated, Dex walked out, only to repeat the same process day after day, trying to find work and being turned down each time. His confidence waned with each rejection, but he kept going, determined to make his mark. He began hanging around the Tech Association in hopes that he'd get a chance to prove himself. He lingered in the lobby, sitting by the walls with his suitcase, watching the engineers and scientists come and go. He observed how they moved, how they talked about their projects, absorbing every bit of information he could.

In these silent hours, he realized how out of place he was. Corvessa Prime was fast-paced, filled with people who had been trained in elite academies and knew every nuance of the latest technologies. They had access to resources he'd only dreamed of, while he'd scraped by with scraps and ingenuity. But he also noticed how many of them missed the small details — a loose panel on a passing droid, a broken sensor on a maintenance bot. He knew these things, understood them on an instinctual level.

Then one day, as Dex lingered near the lobby, a stranger caught his eye. The man walked in with a quiet confidence, his gaze sharp and purposeful, accompanied by a little girl who seemed to cling to him for comfort. Dex couldn't help but be intrigued by this newcomer, something about him standing out in a way Dex couldn't quite place.

As the stranger approached the clerk, Dex watched closely, sensing an opportunity. When he overheard the man ask about droid chips, Dex recognized a rare model in the selection the clerk had presented — one that he knew had durability issues, despite its high price. In that instant, he acted without thinking, stepping forward to offer his unsolicited advice.

And that was the beginning.