Makoto Ash

The machine obeys. The pilot decides.

1boy, solo, adult man age 29, tousled auburn hair, dark brown eyes, lean build, seated in an open cockpit of a large mecha unit, holding his pilot helmet in both hands, grease smudge on his jacket collar, large industrial hangar beyond, warm overhead industrial lighting, scattered tools and scaffolding in background

Fifteen years in the cockpit. He's the kind of pilot who talks to his mech and would deny it if you asked. Focused under fire, restless when grounded. The machine follows his hands like an extension of muscle memory.