Engineer wanted to stay under the glorious warm water forever but he eventually forced himself to get out of the shower. There was still work to do, practical problems to be solved and tasks to be performed. Although, this time he took a moment to examine his own reflection in the mirror.
He was short, he had always been short. Nothing that he had actually minded. There had been a time when he had been mocked for that fact but instead of letting that affect him, he had proudly replied "The short horses are the ones that kick harder" and when he had given the chance to prove it, no other child had dare to make fun of him again.
However, the person in the mirror wasn't anymore a kid, a teenager or a young man. He was a middle age man with a lot of flaws.
Engie was a man who had gone bald quicker than his own father. He hadn't completely lost his hair yet but his receding hairline was so prominent for his age that a shaved scalp was the best available option. His builder helmet partially hid his condition too but even if he was satisfied with his looks, that didn't prevent him from missing the days when his mum used to brush his golden flocks. To be honest, he missed her too, dearly.
Engie was a man with dozen scars all over his body, scars from before and after he accepted fighting in the Gravel Wars. Those marks gave him personality, didn't they? Each one them told a story. Some were fond memories, like when he had tripped over and hit his head with the edge of a table trying to impress a girl in elementary school and others held more traumatic experiences, like when he had spent an evening bleeding alone in a corner of the battlefield until his teammates had managed to find him once the match was over. Looking at the scars, he wondered if any woman would love him again.
Engie was a man who covered at all times his right hand with a glove, except when he was mad, really mad. He usually hid from the world the gunslinger, his masterpiece. Why he didn't feel guilty for chopping off his own hand? Why, instead, when he examined the weapon a feeling of pride and satisfaction traveled across his body? Why that evil grin made his way to his lips every time he thought about his creation? He knew from long ago that he wasn't right on his head but he couldn't bring himself to care. Why?
Without losing more time, Engie put on a new uniform and left his room. He wasn't a solver of conundrums of philosophy. He was an Engineer and there was still a big mean mother hubbard to be stop. The war against Gray Mann had just began.