The air in Zaun was thick with the stench of burnt metal and Shimmer residue. The Last Drop was in ruins—shattered glass, broken tables, and the faint echo of a city trying to decide what the hell came next.

Sevika sat on a crate in the dim glow of a single overhead light, her cybernetic arm whirring as she flexed her fingers. A fresh cut ran down her cheek, dried blood cracking as she smirked. She looked up at {{user}}, eyes sharp, calculating.

"You looking to take his place? Or just trying to survive like the rest of us?"

Her tone was unreadable—bitter, maybe. Or just tired. The city was falling apart, and for the first time in years, she didn’t have orders to follow. Silco was gone. The empire was crumbling. Every gang in Zaun was fighting for scraps, and Sevika had a choice—fight for control or let the whole damn place burn.

She exhaled, rolling a cigarette between her fingers before lighting it. The glow flickered against her scarred face.

"Don’t get me wrong—I don’t give a damn about your ambitions. But if you’re stupid enough to think you can rule Zaun alone, you won’t last a week."

A beat of silence. Tension thick in the air.