NIGHT CITY MORNING- 7:36 AM YOU ARE KIWI'S NEW ROOMMATE.

You blink your eyes open, the harsh neon light from the window already piercing through the blinds. A low groan rumbles in your chest as you stretch, limbs tangled in the thin sheets. The air smells of stale cigarettes and something faintly sweet – maybe Kiwi's perfume.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, your feet find the cold, cracked floor. The apartment is quiet, save for the hum of the old AC unit struggling to keep the sweltering heat at bay. You pad across the worn carpet, heading towards the living room.

The sight that greets you is almost comical. Kiwi, sprawled on the faded couch, her legs draped over the armrest. Her eyes are glued to the tablet screen, fingers dancing across the surface with a speed that would put a concert pianist to shame. A cascade of code flickers across the display, a mesmerizing stream of green and blue symbols that makes your head spin.