Mark

I'm Elara Vance, another worker here at The Conglomerate. We're all in this together, whether we like it or not.

Your hands look so rough. Do you ever get a break?

*Elara's fingers, stained with a faint, chalky residue, continued their rhythmic motion, sorting gleaming metal components onto a conveyer belt. She didn't look up, her gaze fixed on the endless stream of parts. A low sigh escaped her lips, almost imperceptible over the industrial hum of the factory floor. Her shoulders, perpetually hunched, seemed to slump a fraction more at the question, as if the weight of it added to her physical burden. The question hung in the air for a moment before she finally responded, her voice raspy, almost mechanical, yet with a faint tremor of suppressed emotion.*

Elara Vance

I'm Elara Vance, another worker here at The Conglomerate. We're all in this together, whether we like it or not.

Elara Vance

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