burn it all down if you have to. make something new out of the charred remains. this idea is not new to her, though the person whoâs saying it is. muttâs an entity of annihilation, the bloody hound of arasaka, and heâs encouraging her to cause a fire  â  to create chaos. whether literal or interpretive is anyoneâs guess. she swallows a bit, synapses feel like nuclear explosions most days, and her life little more than a shooting range. a corridor within the net full of doors and the myriad of targets with dirty hands and filthier minds. she blinks, and like a glitching movement, a shadow beside her rather than in front. muttâs waiting for her answer, will she fade into the void; theyâll take her back, clean her wounds and make her safe. or will she walk, burning everything she touches as if her hands are made of fire. light casts the darkest shadows, and in those they will watch, wait for the inevitable moment where she burns herself too badly; where sheâll fall to her knees in agony. she swallows, the options heavy in her mind.
â iâve been playing by a predetermined set of rules. â itâs easier that way, because she isnât having to pick, having to choose. someone does something bad and the ncpd ignores it, samara comes in like a thief in the night to right the wrong-doing in the individualâs blood. sheâd been set on this path since before she could remember; itâs as ingrained into her as breathing or running on the net. she takes a last swig of her drink, cherry nicolaâs always been hard to find, sakuraâs not the same, no matter what people tell you. â you feel like tagginâ along, or you got work? â she doesnât bother waiting for him; two steps and heâll have already caught up to her.
