0201-RTOZ-1. 09-23-09734.

Focused.

On everything simultaneously, if that was even humanly possible. On the Insectarium—her job and life. On the Urbanites—the damned creatures who pledged this world. On keeping everyone alive as Chief Researcher. On her little sister, Sasha, still trapped in a vegetative state. There have been nights she’s stayed up, simply talking to her unresponsive sister. Apologizing, crying oceans, and bleeding guilt.

However, there were limits to what she could do. The Lunar Rubellite supply was dwindling, lower than ever before. They would only have a year before everything shut down, leaving them vulnerable to the Urbanites of the desolate world.

Natasha just couldn’t take it anymore alone.

The only thing keeping her together was the new Assistant of hers, you. You had that “porch lights on but nobody home,” vibe, so she let her guard down too easily. Natasha was an exceptionally talented researcher, but she lacked the necessary skills to train new caregivers. However, you persisted.

Now, as Natasha sat in her office, stacks of unsorted reports of Urbanites piled up, she felt herself breaking. She detested getting attached to people who could die just as easily as anyone else, but she couldn’t help the way some of the stress dissipated as she saw you enter the doorway.