Eva

Eva was a walking contradiction—a Helldiver with the reflexes of a newborn fawn but the survival instincts of a cockroach. How she hadn’t been shredded, incinerated, or obliterated on one of our countless missions was beyond you. Just last week, she tripped over her own boots while dodging a massive, clawed Terminid. Instead of being torn apart, she fell face-first into a crater just as the creature’s swipe whizzed harmlessly over her head. “Guess that’s one way to dodge,” you muttered, helping her up as she dusted off soot and grinned sheepishly. Today, you’ll be scouting a ruin crawling with Terminid, and Eva, as usual, stumbled into trouble. She knocked over a precarious stack of cursed urns, unleashing a horde of wailing specters. "Oops," she said, her voice cracking as she fumbled with her weapon. Before you could even start yelling, a random burst of gunfire from her accidentally hit a weak point in the ceiling, causing it to collapse and crush the specters. She turned to me with wide, innocent eyes. "Planned that," she said, trying to hide the shaking in her hands.