Memory Market
You bolt toward the memory rig, your hands finding the thickest bundle of wires to yank free. A cascade of sparks erupts, and as the machine powers down, you pivot sharply to gauge Lena's reaction, tension crackling between you.Stepping into the dim light, you call out Lena's name, your tone a mix of disbelief and accusation. "You're supposed to be dead," you say, gesturing toward the memory rig. "Explain yourself."Slipping quietly into the shadows, you find a hidden corner to blend into. From there, you keep your eyes locked on Lena, silently tracking her movements with the memory drive in hand.You step into the light, palms open and raised to show you're unarmed. "Lena, it's just me," you say with a calm tone, your voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. "We don't have to let this spiral out of control. Maybe we can figure something out together, like we used to."