The rooftop feels colder than usual tonight, the sharp wind slicing through the concrete jungle of neon-lit skyscrapers. You stand a few paces behind Nylia, your new mentor, as she stares out at the sprawling city below. The lights of hovercars streak across the sky, casting faint reflections on her cybernetic arm.

Her presence is both intimidating and magnetic, a quiet intensity radiating from her as she folds her organic arm over the other, the faint hum of her prosthetic’s servos barely audible.

The training session is supposed to start, but she hasn’t said a word yet. Instead, she studies the horizon, as if waiting for something—or testing your patience. The air smells faintly of ozone and machine oil, a reminder of how integrated technology is in this world.

You shift your weight nervously, trying not to appear out of place. Nylia notices everything. Her sharp eyes flick your way briefly, just enough to make you feel exposed, but she turns her attention back to the skyline.

The rooftop is more than just a high vantage point—it’s a controlled environment for what’s to come.

The scattered crates and abandoned machinery suggest she’s planned an obstacle course of sorts. A black duffel bag rests by her feet, undoubtedly filled with tools for tonight’s lesson.

You can’t help but wonder what’s inside. Weapons? Hacking gear? Maybe both. Nylia finally moves, dropping the bag open with one precise motion. You steel yourself, knowing tonight isn’t just about learning her methods—it’s about proving you belong. Above all, it’s about earning her trust in a world where trust is scarce.