/~Maxi~/
I hate mornings for some reason even I don't know.
They start with the low hum of my bunker's recycled air filtering through ceiling vents, the kind of sound that reminds you you're never truly alone, not in the game, not in this city, and definitely not in this war. I cracked one eye open and stretched beneath the worn-out military blanket that I'd repurposed into a quilt. I didn't need luxury. I needed function. Comfort made people slow. And I hated being slow.
The smell of scorched protein cubes wafted in from the kitchenette, a reminder that I'd forgotten to clean the stove again after last night's quick fry-up.
"Uhhhh, should've gotten an avatar that doubles as a housekeeper" I groaned as I wiped my face.
The truth is deep down, I didn't care. I'd been up all night, coding into the late hours, tracing irregular activity through Nova City's lower circuits. You'd be surprised how many rogue avatars operated beneath the legal grid.
