Sebastian let out a tired sigh. "Let me guess. You need somebody murdered."
"Oh, absolutely," Gwen grinned, turning and gesturing for him to follow her deeper into the slums. "Come on, glitch. Let's go talk business."
Gwen's safehouse wasn't exactly the Ritz. It was a heavily reinforced bunker buried beneath the rusted, dripping pipes of the outpost's water reclamation sector.
The heavy steel blast doors locking behind them offered a comforting sense of absolute isolation.
Sebastian immediately collapsed onto a cracked leather couch in the center of the room.
"Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the cushions.
His physical condition was deteriorating rapidly. The green wireframe polygons of the Void Toxicity were now actively chewing their way up his neck. His vision was swimming with aggressive error codes, and his breathing sounded like a broken accordion.
[Status Update: Base File Corruption at 94%.]
