Veronica walked from her mansion with a conspicuous neon purple backpack and a bitter expression.
Kaze took her through a spatial rift to her room to ensure people didn't see her exit the amphitheater back room. Her role required absolute secrecy.
"Hyperthymesic memory?" She laughed, "What a joke. I never realized how much I relied upon search engines until a highly competent, psychopathic serial killer teleported into my room, telling me he knew where everyone's room was because of a disorder no one's heard of.
Now, I can't look up the fancy word to verify his excuse's strength."
The black-haired woman strode near a group of nine other members to the skycruiser docking station, a massive 300-foot hanger with twenty black, private-jet-like crafts waiting.
"No…." Veronica laughed as she walked into the boarding line, "If it's true he doesn't forget anything, that's worse… so much worse."