Zara paced back and forth inside the abandoned safehouse, her weapon resting on the table, its faint blue glow illuminating the dim room. Andre leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching her carefully. The shock of her return hadn’t worn off yet, but the questions burning in his mind demanded answers.
“So,” Andre started, breaking the silence, “you’re alive, you’ve got this... futuristic toy, and you’re back just in time to save my ass. Care to fill in the blanks?”
Zara stopped pacing and turned to face him, her expression a mix of exhaustion and determination. “It’s not a toy, Andre. It’s the reason I survived.”