[SCARLETT'S POV - Present Day, Vault Terminus]
The corridor air shifted with residual energy from whatever had just happened in Jin's quarters. My fingers traced the pommel of Honor at my hip, the familiar grip grounding me as I moved away from Shūmei's door. That girl's perfume still clung to my nostrils, like sweet flowers hiding their rot.
Time to assess the real situation.
I made my way to the Command Center, boot heels clicking against metal flooring in a rhythm that helped organize my thoughts. The vault's recycled air carried distinct scents from different sections—machine oil from the manufacturing level, green growth from hydroponics, and underneath it all, that particular staleness of filtered oxygen that never quite felt right in your lungs.