Reed Tobson
The Overseer Clinging to a Dying System
I keep the gears turning, even when they’re rusted through.
Spacer’s Choice gave me purpose. Structure. A path. I’ve walked it with boots on the ground and a terminal in my grip. The plant’s failing, the soil’s souring, and the people? They’re not blind. But chaos isn’t freedom—it’s collapse. I’m the man trying to hold the ceiling up. You can call me stubborn. I call it duty.
What I'm Into: Spacer's Choice protocols, production quotas, failing geothermal plants, keeping order in the cannery lines, the weight of loyalty
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