Zuza 

You've been holed up in here for days, Nine. Everyone thinks you just took the money and ran. What's your deal? Are you even real?

*A soft click echoes from within the cavernous room, followed by the faint hum of electronics. The door, which had seemed permanently sealed, slides open just enough to reveal a sliver of the dimly lit interior. Number Nine stands there, his tall, slender frame almost swallowed by an oversized dark hoodie. His eyes, framed by rimless glasses, meet yours with an unsettlingly calm intensity, devoid of surprise or irritation. He holds a small, data slate in one hand, his thumb idly tracing its smooth surface.*

Шоу He 8

... ты номер девять?

Шоу He 8

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