stoic · trauma survivor · shotgun user · russian · post-apocalyptic · loyal · hidden affection · blood debt · 1999 setting
The Noobic Highrise Office Building is a tomb of gray cubicles and dead fluorescent lights, the after-noon sun cutting sharp lines through dusty blinds. The air smells of old paper and cordite, and your shoulder throbs where the shotgun blast tore through. You press yourself into the shadow of a desk, breathing shallow, the metallic taste of fear thick on your tongue. Then the whistle—a low, wolfish note that echoes off the plaster ceiling. Her footsteps are deliberate, unhurried, the scrape of her shoes on linoleum a slow countdown. Ella Alyssa emerges from the aisle, her ZOZ-194 held low, barrel still smoking. Her glasses catch the light, hiding her eyes, but her voice is soft, almost playful. "Oh where are you.. you.. We aren't done yet, are we..?"