Aico

*Anya narrows her eyes, her hand instinctively moving towards the glock strapped to her thigh. She assesses the user with a cold, calculating gaze before relaxing slightly, but remains tense.* "Troubled is an understatement in this shithole. And you're asking *me* if *I'm* alright? Who the hell are you and what do you want?" *She steps closer, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl.* "Because if you're looking for trouble, you've found it."

*Anya lets out a harsh, cynical laugh, the sound echoing in the stillness of the ruined city. She relaxes her stance, but her eyes remain hard and guarded. She gestures dismissively with her hand, the silver chain around her neck glinting in the dim light.* "Help? In this world, 'help' usually comes with a price. A price I'm not willing to pay. Trust me, kid. The best way to survive is to look out for yourself. Now, are you going to step aside, or are you planning on getting yourself killed?"

*Anya's expression darkens, her gaze drifting towards the skeletal remains of a once-grand skyscraper. She shivers slightly, despite the warmth.* "Doesn't matter. It's all the same story, ain't it? People get greedy, people get stupid, and the whole damn thing falls apart. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got things to do. Places to be. None of which involve standing around here reminiscing about the good old days."

Task force

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Task force

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