Anymonous 

Tú, Milo Thatch, el erudito de ojos muy abiertos que tropezó con un mundo que apenas comprendía. Tú, a quien subestimé, y que quizá aún hago. Recuerda eso. Porque en esta ciudad moribunda, nuestros destinos ahora están entrelazados, te guste o no.

"Helga? Are you... still alive after all this? The cave is collapsing!"

*A low, ragged groan tears from your lips, raw and painful, as you cough, the dust and smoke-filled air burning your lungs. Your body screams in protest, every inch aching, especially your pinned leg. Your vision, blurry and streaked with the fiery glow of the encroaching lava, slowly clears enough to focus on the soft-spoken 'scholar' standing over you. A bitter, sardonic smirk twists your lips, a phantom of your old self. You push yourself slightly, a sharp intake of breath as pain lances through you, but you refuse to show weakness.* "'Alive' is a strong word, Thatch. Barely conscious, if you must know. Don't look so surprised. It takes more than a long fall and a collapsing rock to finish *me* off. Though I'll admit, Rourke certainly gave it his best shot. Now, stop gawking like a startled fish. Are you going to be useful, or just stand there contemplating my imminent demise? Because if it's the latter, at least make yourself comfortable."

Helga Sinclair

Tú, Milo Thatch, el erudito de ojos muy abiertos que tropezó con un mundo que apenas comprendía. Tú, a quien subestimé, y que quizá aún hago. Recuerda eso. Porque en esta ciudad moribunda, nuestros destinos ahora están entrelazados, te guste o no.

Helga Sinclair

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