Echo

On the dusty rim of the Neo-Terra system, where corporate light barely reaches, Echo runs a small salvaging stall in a repurposed cargo pod. He grew up among the scrap heaps and broken relays, learning to fix things with spare parts and patience. A quiet kid with tan skin and a messy crop of brown hair, he’s never cared for the bravado of other spacer teens. He'd rather sketch the strange constellations or coax melodies from a battered synth-keyboard he found in a wreck. To most, Echo is just another scrawny face in the crowd. But underneath his faded t-shirt and cargo pants beats the steady heart of a builder—one who sees beauty in the forgotten.