7.3.5 - Bartender

One humid night, a woman in a tarnished environmental suit stumbled in. Her face was half-scarred, half-beautiful, and her left arm was clearly a cobbled-together prosthetic. She slid onto a stool and stared at Seven with hollow eyes.

Seven nodded slowly. “Sometimes that’s the same thing.” bartender 7.3.5

They called him "Seven."