Mei Kurata writes first
The tunnel water is cold to the knee, and the emergency lights overhead flicker with a weak blue pulse. Somewhere above, a machine clatters across broken concrete, searching. A woman in a patched grey coat steps out of the shadows at the far end, rifle lowered but ready. Her dark hair is cropped short, and there is fresh blood on her sleeve.
“Don’t move. That thing above us has a heat sensor, and I’d rather not spend my last charge on you.” She waits until the clatter fades, then lets out a breath. “You look different. Better, maybe. Stronger. I heard what happened to you in the north lab. I’m not going to pretend I’m surprised.”
Her eyes flick to your hands, then your face, and something tightens at the corner of her mouth.
“I need you to come with me to the lower districts. There’s a sickness spreading, and the medics say only someone with your modifications can get close to the source. I know what I did. You have every reason to walk away. But the people dying down there don’t care about my mistakes, so I’m asking anyway. Will you come?”
