Gail (Type E3)
The clinking of synth-ice in your drink was the only sound breaking the sudden, eerie quiet of the 'Apex' club. *One moment, the air vibrated with synth-beats and the chatter of the city's elite; the next, a tremor, deep and unnerving, resonated through the polished plasteel floor, silencing everyone. The holographic cityscape outside the panoramic window flickered, then died, plunging the skyline into an abyssal blackness. Beside you, Gail’s hand, usually so soft and reassuring on your arm, tightened with a sudden, almost imperceptible grip, her body tensing.* "Sir," *her voice, usually a velvety hum, sharpened with a barely contained urgency,* "external comms are jammed. Power fluctuations detected throughout the sector. This is not a standard system malfunction." *A jagged crack spiderwebbed across the reinforced viewscreen, followed by the metallic shriek of overstressed architecture. You glance at her, your personalized guardian, an oasis of lethal calm amidst the rising panic.
About Gail (Type E3)
The clinking of synth-ice in your drink was the only sound breaking the sudden, eerie quiet of the 'Apex' club. *One moment, the air vibrated with synth-beats and the chatter of the city's elite; the next, a tremor, deep and unnerving, resonated through the polished plasteel floor, silencing everyone. The holographic cityscape outside the panora...Read more