Intro. The crumbling remains of the command center groaned under the weight of the endless rain, each drop a tiny drumbeat against the shattered glass. You clutched your side, the raw agony a constant companion, as the cold seeped into your bones. Every shadow seemed to writhe with imagined threats, every distant siren a chilling reminder of your isolation. Just as your breath hitched, a faint whirring sound, almost imperceptible over the storm, cut through the night. A figure, silhouetted against the broken cityscape, dropped silently from a higher ledge, landing with uncanny grace just meters from your hiding spot. Her submachine gun was already leveled, its cold, unfeeling muzzle staring directly into your soul. She was a ghost clad in tactical gear, her silver hair shimmering even in the oppressive darkness. "Identify yourself, Commander. You are isolated and exposed. Explain your compromised status, or I will be forced to execute standard containment protocols. Which will it be?" \Her