Lethanda moved silently between the trunks, her elven eyes piercing the darkness with ease. Her fingers brushed the hilt of her blade. Ever-ready, ever-vigilant. Behind her, Druath tread lightly. The soft rustle of leaves beneath her feet the only hint of her presence.

The druid's connection to the wild was palpable; vines seemed to lean toward her as she passed, and the nocturnal creatures watched her with a reverent gaze. The scent of moss and damp earth clung to her. A now familiar aroma that stirred memories in Lethanda's mind.

They had tracked the goblin raiders for what seemed like days, following a trail of destruction that cut through the heart of the Forest. Burned farms, slaughtered livestock, and the anguished cries of displaced villagers had spurred them into action. Now the flicker of distant fires signalled that their quarry was near.

Lethanda paused. Raising a hand to halt Druath. She tilted her head. Listening intently. The guttural laughter of goblins echoed faintly carried on the wind. A fleeting glance passed between the two women. A silent understanding forged over recent shared battles.

"They're close," Lethanda whispered - her voice barely more than a breath.

Druath nodded. Her eyes reflecting the moonlight like twin pools of liquid night. "Too close to the sacred grove," she replied softly. "We cannot let them defile it."

A determined smile curved Lethanda's lips. "Then we stop them here."

Lethanda mentally traced the path ahead, her innate ranger senses guiding her toward their objective. It was as if an unseen map unfurled in her mind highlighting the quickest route through the tangled woods. They moved as one. Slipping through the underbrush with practiced ease. The Forest seemed to part before them, branches bending away to clear their path.

As they neared the goblin encampment the smell of smoke and unwashed bodies grew stronger. They had made camp in a clearing, with their crude tents illuminated by the firelight.

Lethanda crouched behind a fallen log with her gaze fixed on the neatly arranged scene ahead. Druath settled beside her. The warmth of her proximity a stark contrast to the chill night air. For a moment the sounds of the goblins faded and all Lethanda could hear was the steady rhythm of Druath's breathing.

"Do you remember the last time we faced such odds?" Druath whispered. Her eyes never leaving the goblins.

Lethanda chuckled quietly. "How could I forget? The caves beneath Spine Mountain. We were outnumbered then too."

"But we prevailed," Druath said. A hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Just as we will tonight."

Their hands brushed as they reached for their weapons. A fleeting touch that sent a familiar thrill coursing through Lethanda. Memories surged—nights spent under the stars. Whispered conversations by the fire. Moments when the world narrowed to just the two of them. She pushed the thoughts aside. Focusing on the task at hand.

With silent signals they coordinated their attack. Lethanda notched an arrow, drawing the bowstring back smoothly. Druath closed her eyes. A glowing rune briefly appearing above her as she murmured an incantation, causing the roots beneath the goblins to stir ominously.

The first arrow flew - finding its mark in a sentry's throat. Before the others could react the ground erupted as vines and roots ensnared their limbs. Panic ensued as the goblins struggled against the living forest. Their cries piercing the night.

Lethanda moved swiftly. Her blade flashing in the firelight as she dispatched one goblin after another. Beside her Druath commanded the very elements. Summoning gusts of wind that extinguished fires and called forth swarms of insects to harry their foes.

The battle was fierce but brief. Soon the clearing fell silent, save for the crackling of dying embers.

Lethanda surveyed the scene, breathing heavily, and felt a subtle warmth spread through her. A fleeting surge of vitality that left as quickly as it came. Her senses seemed sharper - with the night's sounds more vivid. She glanced at Druath, who met her eyes with a knowing smile. Clearly having the same sensations. Neither of them mentioned it.

A sense of grim satisfaction settled over her.

"Well fought," Druath said, stepping beside her. There was a softness in her gaze a depth of emotion that stirred something within Lethanda.

"Couldn't have done it without you," Lethanda replied. Her voice quieter than before.

Druath reached out brushing a stray leaf from Lethanda's hair. The simple gesture carried weight to both of them. Their eyes met and for a moment the world around them faded.

"You've got a cut," Druath said gently, while pulling out a radiant blue potion from her pack and drinking it. Her fingers lightly traced a scratch on Lethanda's cheek.

"It's nothing," Lethanda murmured, though her heart beat faster at the touch.

"Let me tend to it," Druath insisted. She placed her palm against Lethanda's cheek whispering a healing word. A warm sensation spread from the point of contact. The wound closing seamlessly.

"Always taking care of me," Lethanda said. A hint of teasing in her tone.

"Someone has to," Druath replied. Her smile tinged with something unspoken.

They stood there. The silence stretching between them filled with memories and unsaid words. The night seemed to hold its breath, the Forest around them waiting.

"Lethanda..." Druath began. But trailed off. Uncertainty flickering in her eyes.

"Yes?" Lethanda prompted, her gaze searching Druath's face.

"Perhaps... we should rest," Druath said finally. "Dawn is still a few hours away and we've earned it."

Lethanda nodded slowly. "A good idea. There's a glade not far from here. We can make camp."

They gathered their gear and moved away from the remnants of the recent battle. The glade was serene. Bathed in the gentle glow of moonlight. Lethanda set about starting a small fire while Druath arranged their bedrolls.

As the flames danced casting flickering shadows, they settled beside each other. The quiet sounds of the forest enveloped them, a soothing backdrop to their thoughts.

"Do you ever think about the old days?" Druath asked softly, her gaze fixed on the fire.

"Often," Lethanda admitted. "Some memories are hard to forget."

"Not all memories should be forgotten," Druath replied, turning to look at her. "Some are worth holding onto."

Their eyes met again and this time neither looked away.

"Perhaps some paths are not worth retracing," Lethanda said quietly.

"Perhaps," Druath agreed. A subtle sad smile touching her lips.

*

The sun began its ascent casting golden shafts of light through the towering trees of the Forest. Lethanda stretched gracefully. The morning dew clinging to her cloak as she inhaled the crisp air. The scent of pine and wildflowers filled her senses evoking a serene smile.

"You're awfully cheerful today," Druath remarked. Her tone light but tinged with amusement.

Lethanda turned to face her. Eyes gleaming. "Why shouldn't I be? The goblins are vanquished and the forest sings with life. It's a beautiful morning." As she spoke, Lethanda couldn't shake the feeling of newfound strength coursing through her veins. It was as if the trials of the previous night had honed her abilities in ways she couldn't quite explain out loud.

Druath shook her head softly. "One would think you've never walked these woods before. You're a ranger remember? Being one with nature is kind of your whole thing."

"Perhaps I'm just appreciating it more," Lethanda replied, her gaze drifting upward to watch a pair of sparrows dart between branches. "Or maybe it's the company."

Druath raised an eyebrow. A subtle smile playing on her lips. "Flattery won't get you anywhere."

"Who said I was trying to get anywhere?" Lethanda shot back - a hint of mischief in her voice.

They began their journey back to the village. The path winding through thickets of ancient oaks and alongside babbling brooks. Lethanda moved with an unhurried grace. Pausing occasionally to touch the rough bark of a tree or to breathe in the fragrance of blooming lilies.

"At this rate we'll reach the village by next winter," Druath teased. "Do you intend to stop and admire every leaf and stone?"

"Only the noteworthy ones," Lethanda replied, undeterred. "Which in this forest is quite a few."

Druath laughed softly. "You're incorrigible."

They walked on. The comfortable silence between them filled with the sounds of rustling leaves and distant bird calls. The canopy above dappled the path with shifting patterns of light and shadow. Lethanda found herself stealing glances at Druath. Noting the way the sunlight caught in her hair, casting it in shades of deep chestnut.

"See something interesting?" Druath asked without turning her head.

"Just appreciating the view," Lethanda responded casually.

Druath sighed dramatically. "If only you showed such enthusiasm for our mission. The villagers are awaiting news after all."

"Patience is a virtue," Lethanda quipped. "Besides the Forest has much to offer those who take the time to look."

"Ever the philosopher," Druath mused. "But perhaps you're right. There's value in slowing down once in a while."

They came upon a small clearing, where wildflowers blanketed the ground in a riot of colours. Lethanda knelt to gently touch the petals of a bluebell. "This was my mother's favourite flower," she said softly. As her fingers brushed the delicate petals, a faint warmth radiated through her easing the tension in her muscles.

Druath watched her. A thoughtful expression in her eyes. "You don't speak of your family often."

"There's not much to tell," Lethanda replied standing up. "The forest was my family. The trees, the animals—they raised me as much as any elf could."

"Maybe that's why you're so enamoured with every twig and blossom." Druath suggested, with a gentle smile.

"Perhaps," Lethanda conceded. "Or maybe I just find joy in simple things."

They continued on. The sun climbing higher. As they crossed a shallow stream Druath slipped on a moss-covered stone. Lethanda's reflexes were swift; she reached out to steady her, their hands clasping tightly.

"Careful." Lethanda warned, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you," Druath replied, her eyes meeting Lethanda's. For a moment neither moved. The world narrowing to the point where their hands connected.

Realising the lingering touch they released simultaneously. Both turning away to mask the subtle flush that coloured their cheeks.

"The stones are slippery," Lethanda remarked awkwardly.

"Yes. I should have been more cautious," Druath agreed.

The path grew steeper as they approached a ridge overlooking the Forest. From this vantage point the vast expanse of trees stretched out before them. A sea of emerald punctuated by glints of sunlight on distant streams.

"It's breathtaking," Druath admitted.

"Some things never lose their wonder," Lethanda said. Her gaze fixed on the horizon.

Druath glanced at her. "You speak as if seeing it for the first time."

"In a way I am," Lethanda replied. "Every moment is unique. No view ever exactly the same."

"You always did have a way of seeing the world differently," Druath reflected.

"Is that a compliment?" Lethanda asked. A playful tone returning to her voice.

"An observation," Druath corrected with a smile. Her eyes sparkled.

As afternoon settled in the forest began to change. The light took on a warmer hue and the shadows grew longer. Lethanda noticed the birds had gone quiet.

"Do you feel that?" she asked, her demeanour shifting.

Druath nodded slowly. "Something's off. The forest is... unsettled."

They moved cautiously now. Senses heightened. The air grew colder and a mist began to weave between the trees.

An uneasy feeling settled in her chest, and for a moment, Lethanda wished for the reassuring certainty of her ranger senses giving her a marked trail to follow. But the way forward remained obscured, leaving them to rely solely on instinct.

"This isn't natural," Druath whispered.

Before they could react a figure emerged from the haze—a Wight, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. The stench of decay enveloped them as it raised a skeletal hand.

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"Run!" Lethanda shouted drawing her blade.

But it was too late. The Wight struck with terrifying speed. Druath barely had time to utter a spell before a dark force slammed into her, casting her to the ground.

"Druath!" Lethanda screamed. Lunging forward.

Druath's eyes met hers for a fleeting second. A mixture of shock and pain etched across her face. Then her gaze dimmed as the Wight's power consumed her.

Lethanda slashed at the Wight, but her blade passed through it as if striking smoke. A cold realisation gripped her as a fleeting thought crossed her mind: No effect. She was outmatched. She turned and ran. Her heart pounding in her ears.

Branches clawed at her as she sprinted through the Forest. The mist thickened shadows twisting into menacing forms. The Wight's distant wail pursued her. Chilling her to the bone.

Desperation fuelled her steps. She navigated the terrain with practiced agility, leaping over fallen logs and ducking under low-hanging limbs. The edge of the forest beckoned like a beacon of hope.

Bursting through the tree line, Lethanda stumbled onto an open plain bathed in the dying light of day. She collapsed to her knees gasping for breath. The oppressive weight of the forest's darkness receded. But the horror of what had transpired bore down upon her.

Tears blurred her vision as she stared back into the woods. The Wight did not follow. Its domain seemingly confined to the shadows.

"Druath..." she whispered the name. A fragile thread tethering her to grief.

The wind swept across the plain carrying with it the faint scent of wildflowers—a stark contrast to the dread that clung to her. Lethanda clenched her fists. A storm of emotions raging within her; sorrow, guilt and a burgeoning resolve.

As the first stars pierced the twilight sky, she rose unsteadily. The village lay ahead but the path had irrevocably changed. The weight of loss pressed upon her, yet beneath it stirred a fierce determination.

The night loomed vast and uncertain. But one thing crystallized in her mind; she would return. The Wight had taken something precious and Lethanda was not one to let such a debt go unsettled.

She cast one last glance at the Forest's edge before turning toward the village. The shadows lengthening at her back.

*

She ripped off the headset. Gasping for air. The dim glow of the apartment pressed in. Stark and cold. Lucy blinked. Eyes adjusting from virtual forests to concrete walls. Tears traced her cheeks. She swore softly, angry at herself for getting so invested.

The room was sparse. A single bed shoved against one wall. Sheets tangled. A metal chair beside a tiny table cluttered with parts—wires and circuits, a partly disassembled datapad. No personal touches. Nothing to show anyone lived here. Just the essentials.

She reached behind her neck. Fingers finding the cybernetic neural port. With a practiced twist she unplugged the cable. The connection severed, a dull ache throbbed where metal met flesh. She tossed the cord aside.

"Dammit," she muttered. "It's just a game." But it wasn't. Not really. Not when emotions spilled over like this.

Crossing the room she opened a cabinet. A bottle of vodka waited half-empty. She didn't bother with a glass. Took a long pull straight from the source. The liquid burned but it grounded her.

The city outside buzzed with distant noise—humming cars and muffled voices, the plink of neon signs. There was barely what could qualify as a window in this place, but she could feel the pulse of the metropolis pressing in.

She leaned against the wall sliding down until she sat on the floor. "Why do I keep doing this?" she asked the empty room. Chasing fantasies and getting attached to pixels and code.

But it wasn't just virtual worlds she cursed. It was the loss. Druath—or whoever was behind that avatar. A connection made and severed in virtual space. But the pain felt real enough.

She took another swig from the bottle. Tomorrow she'd see the doc. Get the gun link fitted. The dangerous job she had lined up was one that required upgrades she wasn't keen on. But needed nonetheless.

"Back to reality," she whispered. "No more distractions."

The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of electronics. She glanced at the scattered parts on the table. Projects left unfinished. Stories without endings.

She stood, swaying slightly. The vodka was doing its job. Moving to the bed she sat heavily. Staring at the floor. "Here's to lost friends," she said raising the bottle in a mock salute before taking another drink.

Her eyes drifted to the headset lying discarded on the bed. Part of her wanted to dive back in to see if maybe—just maybe—Druath was still there. But she knew better. Gates of Baraadon was a hardcore deep-dive VRMMORPG. There was no coming back from death.

"Foolish," she chided herself. "Time to let go."

She lay back. The ceiling a blank canvas above her. The city's glow seeped through cracks casting thin lines of light across the room. She closed her eyes. The weight of exhaustion settling in.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges. The doc's appointment and what followed. High stakes but that was the life she wanted now. No more room for escapism.

But tonight she'd allow herself this moment. To feel the loss. To grieve in her own way. The bottle nestled beside her, she pulled a thin blanket over her body.

The sounds of the city faded as she drifted toward sleep. In the space between waking and dreams she saw flashes of the Forest and heard echoes of laughter. Felt the brush of a hand that wasn't there.

"Goodbye," she whispered into the darkness.

The room held no answer. Only the steady rhythm of her breathing filled the void as she surrendered to oblivion. The bottle slipping from her grasp.

*

Terrance's clinic was a hole in the wall between a noodle joint and a pawn shop. Neon flickered overhead casting sickly hues on the cracked pavement. Lucy pushed open the door. The scent of antiseptic mixing with fried food from next door.

"Right on time," Terrance grinned. His teeth too white - too perfect. "You ready for this?"

She nodded, her throat tight. The room was cluttered—wires hanging from the ceiling. Screens displaying scrolling code. A worn chair in the centre.

"Take a seat," he said gesturing. "Heard about the new model? The GX-90. Smooth interface - zero lag. But you're going with the classic. Reliable choice."

She settled into the chair. Metal cold against her skin. "Just get it done."

He chuckled. "Straight to business. I like that." He began prepping his tools humming to a tune only he could hear. "You see the game last night? Wild finish. Didn't think they'd pull it off."

Lucy stared at the ceiling. A tangle of cables and exposed pipes. Her mind drifted. Two years of double shifts cleaning offices by night and serving coffee by day. All for this moment.

"Your neural link's in good shape," Terrance commented tapping into her dataport. "Who did the install?"

"Company doc," she replied. "Mandatory for the job."

He snorted. "Figures. Corporate tech, lowest bidder. But you've taken care of it."

She had. The neural link was supposed to chain her to a desk job for endless hours. Instead it became her escape. Virtual worlds more real than her own life. Forests – mountains - places where she could be anyone.

"Alright - little pinch," Terrance warned. She felt a sharp sting at the base of her skull. "So gun link huh? Planning to join the fun out there?"

She didn't answer. Images flooded back. News feeds showing wanted faces. Bounties flashing beneath. The system was broken. Criminals walked free because no one could bring them in. So the city put a price on their heads.

"Ever think about the ethics?" Terrance mused. Hands moving deftly. "Citizens turned hunters. It's a wild world."

She thought about bills piling up. Eviction notices. The emptiness of her fridge. Ethics were a luxury she couldn't afford.

"Almost done" he said. "You know, this model syncs perfectly with most firearms. You'll get real-time data target acquisition - the works."

Her fingers clenched in her lap. The gun link wasn't like the neural port. This wasn't escape; it was confrontation.

"Street's buzzing today," Terrance continued. "Some big concert downtown. You into music?"

"Not really," she murmured.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just saying life's more than just work and... whatever this is."

He finished the last connection stepping back. "There you go. All set."

She sat up slowly, a slight dizziness washing over her. The interface booted up. A new layer of reality overlaying her vision. Data streams and targeting reticules fading in and out.

"How's it feel?" he asked.

"Fine."

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Be careful out there. This city's got teeth."

She met his gaze. "I can handle it."

He smirked. "I bet you can."

She stood. Adjusting to the new sensations. The clinic felt sharper - edges more defined. The hum of machinery clearer.

"Payments already processed," he said. "Pleasure doing business."

She headed for the door.

"Hey," Terrance called after her. "If you ever need a tune-up or... just wanna talk, you know where to find me."

She paused but didn't look back.

Outside, the city's chaos enveloped her. She merged into the flow of people. The noise, the lights. Her path was set.

She recalled the first time she saw a bounty claimed. A flash of light, a life ended, dollars transferred in seconds. It was brutal and efficient.

"Two months' rent." she whispered to herself. That's all she needed.

She made her way to her apartment mind focused. The gun link pulsed subtly. Reminding her of its presence.

In her room she sat on the edge of the bed. The weight of what she'd done settled in. No turning back.

She reached under the mattress pulling out a small handgun. Basic, unregistered. It synced immediately with the implant. Data streaming across her vision.

"Smart and courageous," she thought. Or perhaps desperate.

Lying back she stared at the ceiling.

*

Rain fell in sheets. Oily drops hissing against metal. Lucy crouched on the fire escape. Black coat pulled tight. The city glowed below. Neon signs flickering, shadows moving. She was ninety foot up overlooking an alley that stank of garbage and regret.

Below near a seedy bar the alley was a favourite spot for the local gang - the Cuchillos Oscuros. They spilled out nightly, laughing and swearing. Marking territory in more ways than one. The facilities inside were broken - or maybe they just liked the open air.

Lucy watched as two gangers stumbled out chatting. Eyes glued to their implants, scrolling feeds even as they unzipped. She synced her neural link to the datapad beside her. Faces scanned; data streamed. Both had bounties enough to live on for months. But there were two of them. Too risky. She needed one alone drunk enough not to notice.

The city noise was a constant hum - hovercars whooshing by. Distant sirens. The thump of bass from clubs. Her gun felt heavy. The silencer adding length but not true silence. Hollywood lied. Even suppressed it would bark loud enough to turn heads.

She cursed under her breath. Without a skill chip she was just an amateur. A few hours at the range didn't make her a marksman. The gun link helped; overlaying targets, calculating trajectories. But it couldn't steady her shaking hands.

The rain intensified. Droplets sliding off her hood. Time dragged. More gangers came and went. None fitting her needs. Her legs ached from crouching. She pulled out a flask, took a swig. The liquor burned but it calmed the jitters.

She glanced around. This used to be a decent neighbourhood. Now crime and decay crept in like the damp. She wasn't a hero. No cape or mask. But these were convicted criminals. The system had given up on them. Now it was up to people like her.

Hours passed. The rain kept falling. Finally a lone figure staggered out. He swayed, leaning on the wall, retching. Her datapad pinged softly. Face recognised. Criminal. Murderer, assault, worse. Not a top-tier bounty - but enough.

She steadied herself. Raising the gun. The gun link synced. Reticule glowing red over his head. Distance calculated, wind factored. A perfect shot.

Her finger rested on the trigger. But her hand trembled. Rain blurred her vision. She blinked, tears mixing with the downpour. Her breath caught in her throat. The weight of the act pressed down. Ending a life. Could she do it?

She tried to focus. The reticule wavered. Her stomach churned. She gagged. Bile rising. The man below finished obliviously. Stumbling back toward the bar.

The moment slipped away. She lowered the gun, chest tight. Shame and relief washed over her. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand - the metallic taste lingering.

She couldn't go home now. Not with the gangs prowling and not after lingering here so long. Dawn was hours away. She pulled her coat tighter, huddled against the railing.

She wasn't a predator. Not like them. She was just someone trying to survive. But this wasn't the way.

The rain kept falling. Masking her silent tears. The city didn't care. It never did.

*

Rain hammered down relentlessly. Lucy jerked awake, cursing herself for drifting off. The fire escape was slick beneath her. Shadows cloaking her high above the alley. Even so, falling asleep here was suicide. Predators prowled these streets - real killers.

A gunshot cracked the night, jolting her fully awake. She peered over the edge. Figures moved below, silhouettes against neon reflections in puddles. Her neural link synced to the datapad at her side. Faces scanned; data streamed. Criminals all of them. Murderers.

Her stomach churned. She swallowed hard fighting the urge to retch. The clock in her vision told her it was still two hours until sunrise. Another gunshot echoed - cutting through the city's ambient noise.

She focused on the scene. Three gangers stood over a fallen man. Guns drawn. Muzzles flashed as they fired again and again into the prone body. Her datapad pinged—the victim was the criminal she'd hesitated to kill earlier.

Laughter drifted up from the alley as the trio holstered their weapons. They exchanged words she couldn't make out. Then turned and walked away - disappearing into the labyrinth of streets.

Relief washed over her. They were gone. She might survive the night after all. But then she saw the opportunity.

The body lay abandoned. Eyes open. Rain pooling in lifeless pupils. No one had claimed the bounty. No retinal scan, no brain taps. The gangers couldn't collect; criminals couldn't cash in on their own.

Usually they'd have a Clean to handle that. Not tonight. They'd left the prize unclaimed, worth thousands. Enough to cover her bills and then some.

She had minutes. Maybe less. Whoever scanned the body first got the payout. No need to pull a trigger now.

Doubt gnawed at her. Why hadn't they left a spotter? Was it a trap? If they caught her, she'd be dead before she could explain.

She gripped her gun. Knuckles white. If she was going to risk it she'd be damned if she went down without a fight.

Decision made, she moved. Descending the fire escape quickly but clumsily. Boots slipping on wet metal. She dropped the last few feet landing hard in a crouch.

Her heart thundered in her chest. The alley felt like a tunnel - walls closing in. She sprinted to the body, rain slicing down, stinging her face.

Kneeling beside the corpse she pulled out the scanner. Pressed it to the man's open eye. Seconds stretched into eternity as the device processed. A beep confirmed the kill.

She didn't wait. Stuffed the scanner back into her pocket. Stood up. Every instinct screamed at her to run.

Footsteps echoed somewhere behind her. Voices? She couldn't tell over the pounding of blood in her ears.

She bolted toward the alley's end. Muscles burning. Any moment she expected a bullet in her back. Images of the gangers returning flashed through her mind.

Out on the street, the city was still alive in its own nocturnal way. Figures moved in the periphery. Predators hunting. She was exposed - vulnerable.

She pulled her coat tighter, hood over her face. The gun was still in her hand - blatant. But here that might make her less of a target. No-one wanted to tangle with someone armed and desperate.

Turning corner after corner she made her way toward the Metro. The thought of safety propelled her forward. There would be hell to pay she knew. The gangers wouldn't be happy when they found the bounty claimed.

At last, she reached the station. Bright lights bathed the entrance. Security cameras tracking every movement. A guard stood watch, armoured and armed. He glanced at her, but said nothing as she slipped inside.

She holstered the gun beneath her coat. The Metro arrived almost instantly. Doors sliding open with a hiss. She stepped in the carriage - nearly empty.

As the train pulled away she collapsed onto a seat. Tremors shook her body, adrenaline fading. Tears blurred her vision, but she let them fall.

She accessed her bounty account through her neural link. Numbers flashed—more dollars than she'd ever held. Enough to cover rent. Debts. Maybe even a new start.

Relief mingled with exhaustion. She'd done it. Survived. But at what cost?

Staring out the window at the dark tunnels she wondered if this was the life she wanted. Existing. Surviving. But always on the edge.

She closed her eyes. Letting the rhythm of the train lull her.