[@Ploxerdon]

Maven’s heartbeat pounded in her ears as she gasped at the lack of breathable gas in the mask, coughing weakly as she lay on her side, the cold tile floor underneath her. Her hands shook as she struggled to place a cartridge of Cyanothane into her wrist, until  Sergei approached and took it from her. She couldn’t resist, not in this state. “...This is how I die….what have I done to deserve this..” she thought, her vision foggy as the odd colors faded in front of her. Sergei was going to let her die, not even an hour after she had arrived.

A slight hiss and Maven gasped sharply, coughing violently for a minute. She laid on the floor unmoving, allowing her body to recover from the deprivation of gas. She then reached down to a pouch on her hip, digging out a small aluminum injector labeled “Adrenaline” and placed it on her neck, gritting her teeth as she pushed it in and pressed the button. She waited until the injection was complete before tossing it aside, shattering the glass panel on it. Maven rolled onto her back, drawing in deep breaths to slow her heart-rate down to a barely detectable level,  to where it usually sat around six beats per minute.

Maven moved and pushed herself up onto all fours, before she staggered to her feet with assistance from the wall. She leaned against it for a second, looking at Sergei with her sad, demon-like eyes, the slow hiss of breather resonating through the hallway. She grabbed her pistol, dropping the mag from it onto the floor as a sign of peace, holstering the weapon. After picking up the magazine, she looked around to see if anyone had noticed the little brawl before the doctor that had accompanied her to the school came flying around the corner, coming to Maven’s side.

“Miss Leigh, are you alright..?” He asked, looking to the supposed assailant. “What the hell happened here?” he almost shouted at Sergei before pulling up Maven’s right wrist, inserting a syringe into the IV-esque slot and injecting yet another chemical into her. He looked expectantly at Sergei, his hand on Maven’s neck feeling for her pulse “She’s extremely delicate, despite her attitude. If you had killed her you’d have had every single Prophet after you until you lay dead on the street.”