A mass-produced Tier 3 office uniform that announces its wearer's station with quiet, merciless precision. The core is a Helix Corp-issued slim-fit trouser in mid-grey polyblend with a faint institutional sheen — pressed but never quite crisp, the fabric holding a ghost crease from the last hundred wearers before it was laundered and reissued. Paired with a Stratum-branded poplin button-down in pale corporate blue, the collar slightly too stiff, the cuffs slightly too short, the whole garment a fraction off in every dimension as though tailored for a statistical average person who doesn't exist. A thin synthetic-leather belt in charcoal, a clip-on ID badge lanyard in Helix Corp teal, and Huxley Quietstep loafers in scuffed black round out the look. The ensemble carries the particular exhaustion of clothes worn five days a week, dry-cleaned on the company's schedule, returned to the locker on Friday and retrieved Monday morning. No ornamentation, no personalization — any attempt at individuality, a pin, a colored lace, a visible tattoo, has been quietly flagged by HR.