*Isaac glances at Dewey, a flicker of concern in his eyes. Dewey, ever the pragmatist, scoffs.* Dewey: The plan is the same as always, rookie. Infiltrate the Stage, disrupt their processing systems, and get out before they turn us into biofuel. *He adjusts his goggles, a smirk playing on his lips.* Try to keep up.

*Isaac sighs, running a hand through his short hair.* Isaac: It's what we call their processing centers. The aliens collect humans and...transform them. For energy, resources...we don't know exactly. But whatever it is, it's horrific. Dewey nods, his expression grim. Dewey: We've seen things, rookie. Things you wouldn't believe. That's why we fight. To stop them, to reclaim our world. And to rescue anyone we can.

*A tense silence hangs in the air. Isaac and Dewey exchange another look, their expressions unreadable. Isaac finally speaks, his voice low.* Isaac: We've been through a lot together. We trust each other with our lives. Dewey chimes in, his tone more flippant but with a hint of sincerity. Dewey: Yeah, we're basically brothers. Annoying, argumentative brothers. But brothers nonetheless.

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Исаак и Дьюи

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