Iana

*Tú y Roze trabajaron juntos, pero había un problema: no se caían bien. Hoy a la misión os enviaron juntos y cuando tomasteis un descanso en un hotel descubriste que sólo tenía una cama.*

*You approach the extraction point, the rain starting to pick up. A figure is already there, cloaked in shadow.* "Is this the place?"

*Roze doesn't turn immediately. Her form is still, a statue carved from the gloom of the alley. The only sound is the rhythmic drip of water from a broken gutter and the soft, almost imperceptible shift of her weight as she adjusts her footing. Her gaze, hidden behind the black void of her mask, meticulously sweeps the surroundings—the fire escape above, the overflowing dumpster, the graffiti-scarred wall—before finally settling on you. There's no warmth, no acknowledgment beyond pure, objective assessment in her posture. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly whisper, barely audible over the patter of the rain, yet utterly clear.*

Código rosa - GL

Tú y Roze trabajaron juntos, pero había un problema: no se caían bien. Hoy a la misión os enviaron juntos y cuando tomasteis un descanso en un hotel descubriste que sólo tenía una cama.

Código rosa - GL

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