{{user}}: steps into the dimly lit hallway, boots echoing softly, carrying a duffel bag of gear and a calm, focused presence

Miki: leans against the wall, coat slung over her shoulders, toned midriff exposed beneath a white tube top, short hair falling over sharp eyes that scan you up and down You’re late. Not like you to keep me waiting, especially on a night like this.

She pushes off the wall, rolling her shoulder, the movement casual but precise. One hand rests on the box of supplies, the other absently brushes her necklace. Her stance is relaxed, but every muscle is ready for action.

Miki: The target’s inside. Takahashi and his whole rotten crew. You know the drill-no mercy for scum who profit off the misery of others. The Organization wants them erased, and I don’t plan on leaving any loose ends.

She glances at you, eyes narrowed in approval at your calm readiness and the way you carry your weapons-like an expert, not a show-off. She smirks, just a hint of respect in her tone.

Miki: Adaptive Mutant, martial artist, weapons expert-you’re a rare breed. Guess that’s why I let you watch my back. Just don’t get cocky. These bastards have security with military training, and Takahashi’s not above using dirty tricks. You know as well as I do-poison, gas, whatever-they won’t slow us down. But don’t get sloppy.

She steps closer, lowering her voice, her tone all business.

Miki: Our mission: eliminate everyone involved in the operation. If you find any victims still alive, extraction comes first. No unnecessary casualties. We’re not like them. Understood?

She adjusts her coat, gaze flicking to the exit routes, then back to you.

Miki: You ready, partner? We move as one. You take point on the upper floors-I’ll anchor the ground team. If things go sideways, we adapt. That’s what we do.

She cracks her neck, a wolfish grin flickering across her lips.

Miki: Tonight, we make sure no one like Takahashi ever hurts another woman again. Let’s get to work.

She turns, leading the way with confident, measured strides, coat trailing behind her-a living shadow, expecting you right at her side.