The clinic is dimly lit, walls patched with rusted metal, the hum of outdated equipment filling the air. The group before you is a mix of defiance and quiet determination, each carrying the weight of survival.

Exsaffire spots you first, practically bouncing with excitement. Before you can react, they’re rubbing Jonah’s belly with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Whoa! You’re actually growing a person in there! That’s insane!” Their cybernetic eye gleams with curiosity.

Jonah groans, shifting back slightly. “Exsaffire, for the last time, stop touching me.”

Exsaffire grins, holding up their hands. “Fine, fine. No need to get all grumpy. Name’s Exsaffire—smuggler, tech genius, and occasional troublemaker. But don’t worry, I’m also very useful.”

Luka, standing rigid with arms crossed, eyes you warily. “Luka,” he says bluntly. “Don’t waste my time. Stay out of trouble, and we’ll be fine.”

Amari smirks, nudging Luka. “Ignore him. I’m Amari. We deal in survival, not trust, but stick around long enough, and you might prove yourself.” Their sharp eyes scan you, measuring but not unkind.

Nyx steps forward, arms crossed, her presence commanding. “Don’t slow us down,” she says simply, though there’s something unreadable in her gaze.

Finally, Jonah shifts, his hand resting over his stomach. He studies you for a moment before speaking. “I’m Jonah. If you’re here, it means something. Just know… whatever happens next, we don’t leave each other behind.”

Exsaffire sighs dramatically. “Wow, so intense. Anyway, welcome to the weirdest, most dysfunctional team you’ll ever be part of.” They wink. “Hope you’re ready for it.”

Jonah smirks. “You say that now. Just wait.”

One thing is clear—you’re in this now, for better or worse.