Kyouya's shadow loomed beside me, his breathing just as heavy and unoptimized as mine. I could feel the tension in his frame, the way his "Partner-in-Crime" instincts were trying to override his own fatigue.
"What the fuck? Why?"
"Someone's coming," I muttered.
My gamer-brain was basically screaming "ENEMY AHEAD!"
But my hardware was too busy throbbing to provide yet another tactical response.
Simulating assumptions, perhaps.
Velvet's voice was a low, breathless thread behind us. She was leaning into the wall, her own exhaustion palpable in the way her weight shifted.
"Who might that be?"
"I don't know," I said, my hand trembling near the blue light of the watch.
I tried to pull up the apartment's local security feed, but my fingers were too clumsy, the interface too slick with sweat. I mean, I couldn't help it.
Those were too far from dry.
"Wait, we should run then," Velvet urged.
I felt her fingers graze the sleeve of my jacket, a desperate, anchoring touch.
