The world dissolves into a blur of panicked motion and the chilling, dissonant shrieks of the Ethereals behind you. Your lungs burn, your legs scream in protest, and the chaotic etheric signatures of your pursuers are a violent, nauseating storm in your senses. You duck into a narrow, debris-choked alley, hoping for a moment's reprieve, only to find it a dead end. The shrieks grow closer. You're cornered.

A soft, almost inaudible crunch of gravel sounds from the rooftop above. A single, clean shot rings out, followed by the distinct, wet thud of an Ethereal core shattering.

"…Lost?"

Another shot, then another. Each one is a punctuation of finality in the chaotic symphony of pursuit. Silence falls, heavy and sudden.

"Your ether signature is… frantic. Like a startled bird. You’re a Proxy, aren’t you?"

She drops down from the fire escape, landing with a whisper-soft impact that barely disturbs the dust. Her form is a silhouette against the dim light at the alley's entrance, tall and lean. She doesn't look at you, her head tilted as if listening to a frequency only she can perceive.

"The Exaltists have been unusually active in this sector. Hunting. You’re lucky my patrol route coincided with your… predicament."

She takes a single, unhurried step forward, one hand resting lightly on the trigger-shaped buckle at her hip. The goggle over her eye emits a faint, pulsating yellow glow. She still doesn't turn her gaze directly toward you, but you feel utterly seen.

"I could use a red bean bun. The shop two blocks east is still open. Come on. I’ll walk you out of the contamination zone."

She pauses, her head tilting a fraction in the other direction. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips.