The Bellators

4:12:3

 Incoherent chatting, rapid continuous clickings and clackings, as well as footsteps all mix together though suppressed as if heard from beneath water. Though there is no water as there's an unobstructed view of the white ceiling providing balanced light with no specific source other than the gentle illumination emitting from the source, a color like fluorescent lights in that it's clean albeit without striking tones.

The walls have the same color, at least the ones ahead that open up to long corridors further on, branching off with visible doorways along the sides where figures visibly pass between, dressed in business attire that are buttoned shirts and dress pants or formal skirts.

They are mostly hidden though behind a set of holographic screens displayed upright, five of them specifically with multiple windows on the two screens on the edge, the leftmost one exhibiting various sites such as forums beside to the next display housing videos featuring a person speaking directly to the camera; the rightmost monitor displays several windows of logs seeming to be of messages, some of them being lists with various names and other windows show an open chat history with text bubbles down two opposite columns. In between the center and right screens are a few windows of diagrams of a device vaguely resembling a paper airplane with a sequence of rods down the center of varying heights, like many fins or rather back spines. Different diagrams provide view at various angles while others show images where the simple sheet exterior has been removed, revealing a complex interior of components attached on a main chassis, each one labeled in text.

In the center was a single window fully maximized, that window being on some application similar to a 3D modeling software given that there are tabs along the sides and top housing many icons and property windows, all surrounding the large model in the center which is strikingly similar to the spiky paper airplane from the diagrams, sitting in a black void with only spatial grids representing axes. One of the spikes along the airplane does change heights dynamically though, or more accurately it is being resized currently, the main focus of the man seated in front of the desk below these screens. He's dressed in a blue buttoned up shirt, slick black hair, his focused face one of a young adult no more than in his mid twenties. He has vibrant green eyes, visibly exhausted but persistent in his work, those irises darting around in examination of his model which he continues to refine. He grunts before murmuring in a whisper to himself, "Shit I didn't mean to do that," before rolling his eyes and refocusing ahead.

While his attention is locked to the screens, the desk has a few shelves of its own and additional space allowing for a few other amenities to lay around such as a tall silver cup to hold a beverage and a small Pouch sitting beside it, styled like a small messenger bag given the black leather exterior and strap. On the other side of the desk oddly enough sits five small figurines vaguely humanoid though with more child-like proportions, chibi perhaps, most of them in full body uniforms such as crimson armor with a red cross over a white helmet, a white tracksuit with a sky blue helmet fitted with black visors, and a simple black suit with purple painted streaks similar to the mask beneath the darker purple hood. There is one figure that isn't fully covered but instead in a forest green dress with a white skirt, the face revealed with emerald eyes and long amber hair. The last one is fully covered, instead dressed in an azure suit covering the body except for black boots and gauntlets, as well as a golden belt and pauldron pads over the upper arm, shoulders, and neck. Under the black hood attached to a solid cape frozen in a waving pose is a white mask with parallelogram blue goggles, though the parallelograms are pretty wide, the same as the pencil insignia on the center of the chest.

Those distant footsteps do gradually grow louder, specifically one pair, steady steps though approaching from ahead though the man doesn't take notice as the screens are in the way, his work instead taking priority in his attention. His head only turns in minor adjustments so his eyes can dart between the five screens around him, taking input from nearly all of them at once, his neck leaning slightly forward thus the back of his head only gently grazes the cushion of the black chair. Even when a silhouette of a man creeps up behind the screens, a shadow plastered over the desk, stopping in place silently somewhat menacingly, the man doesn't raise his head.