[b]November:[/b]

[b]Orange:[/b]

You get an email, while Fiona and Crystal witness your rainbow.

[i]You held up your end. 300 seconds. Can’t explain.[/i]

[hr]

[b]Strawberry:[/b]

You almost have it. Don’t let me forget. There’s just a more pressing concern. 

Three people in flak vests push their way through the basement to you, two humans and an android. They cradle their submachine guns, slung over their shoulders, but keep their fingers off the triggers for now. They look at home here, blue camo print just has a way of complimenting brutalist cement, doesn’t it? 

The lead man, shaved head and red beret, clears his throat. 

“Which one of you is Crimson Tower?” He asks. “And who’s the [i]other [/i]one?”

[b]Waffle:[/b]

It’s an excellent question. Who [i]could[/i] track you through all that? Even if the Chase Black guys[i] could[/i], there’s no way they can catch up to you with their ride shredded.

… but where are you exfiltrating [i]to[/i]? Where were you going from here?

[b]Flood:[/b]

Where are you, right now? Like, right this exact moment. 

Because you’re [i]compromised[/i]. You knew you might be, which is why you didn’t choose to hang out somewhere like your place for the operation, a place you’d [i]really[/i] worry about getting burned. But Chase Black knows that Waffle couldn’t have acted alone. You didn't make it easy, but with this much damage, you couldn't be perfect either. 

Traditionally, they work in squads of thirteen. Either two fireteams of six, or three teams of four, and an officer. And so far? You’ve only accounted for six. 

[b]300 seconds remain.[/b]