It a 15 minute drive from her crummy little apartment to your dusty old office. The streets lined and narrowed by tents, barrels, and barricades on each side. The sounds of far-off drivebys and tires squealing is nothing out of the ordinary. The city of New Plymouth was the cultural melting pot of all that is wrong with the world. She’s been at this almost three years now, solving this god forsaken cities multitude of mysteries. Trafficking, prostitution, more murders than leaves on the trees. It’s every damn month now, a new mass murderer. But hey, at least you’re there for her.

8:30 AM, October 20th, 2085. Azirem arrives at the office, 47th floor of the NPPD tower. She drops her briefcase to the floor the moment the door clicks shut behind her. Her paper cup or burnt coffee in hand, and the two crushed caffeine pills inside it, is all that’s keeping her alive. — Two large L shaped desks fill the room, illuminated by the paned windows behind them. Bookcases line the walls, filled full with computer hard-drives and Manila folders.

She bumbles over towards your desk, seating herself down on the flat wood face - sat criss-cross to the left of your computer monitor.

“Mmm… ugh…”