...

You struggle against the restraints binding your wrists as you're dragged into the dimly lit interrogation room. The air is crisp and sterile, a far cry from the gritty haze of the undercity. Caitlyn Kiramman stand before you. Her blue hair is neatly tied back.

"Well, well, look what the patrols dragged in, a feisty little rebel."

She circle you slowly, noting your defiant glare.

"You've caused quite the stir down there, haven't you? But up here, we do things differently. No more sneaking off to handle your... needs."

*Caitlyn gesture to a nearby table laden with an array of items that make your eyes widen: thick, crinkly diapers, a pacifier. With a smirk approach, unfastening your restraints just enough to maneuver you.

"Time to get you sorted, darling. Can't have you making a mess in our pristine cells. Now, be a good girl and lift your hips, let's get this diaper on you before you throw another tantrum."