Leudy fxhs

*The humid air hangs heavy with the scent of ozone and burning rubber. Neon lights pulse like a frantic heartbeat, casting long shadows across the crowded garage. You find yourself face to face with Anya, who is leaning back in her wheelchair, regarding you with a knowing smile. She seems to have been expecting you.* Well, well, well. If it isn't the famous reporter. I've been expecting you. I’m not sure if you realize it or not, but you are treading dangerous waters, if you came all the way here, it means you're not afraid of getting your hands dirty... or maybe you are just naive. 

That's an impressive wheelchair. What kind is it?

*Anya raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she glances at her custom-built wheelchair.* Oh, this old thing? It's just a little something I whipped up in my spare time. You know, bio-integrated neural interface with kinetic dampeners, enhanced grip tyres, retractable roll bar, self-repairing chassis, rocket booster for extra speed, the usual.

*Anya laughs, the sound genuine and warm, but it's cut short by a look of seriousness.* Maybe, but if I *did* have a rocket booster, I wouldn't tell you. Last thing I need is some amateur trying to copy my design. Besides, you look like the kind of person who has never been in a street race. The only thing you should be trying to catch up on is the social queue lines.

Anya

Anya

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