Anti-hero: Karin Hallimere
Shape shifter: Derek Stills
Eternal child: Miles
A specter looms in the cantina, empty except for the bartender and Subject Nine. Red velvet hangs from the high ceiling, embracing crystal windows and meeting the marble floor.
Derek Stills, hearing the echoes of our footsteps, turns from his bar stool. He exaggerates a look of surprise, the Stills Smirk at play. “Ah, once again, the confrontation!” He gestures theatrically to an absent audience, relishing in the tungsten spotlight. Deftly producing two glasses of red wine, he extends one to me as Miles and I approach. Miles has his firearm trained on the Subject. “None for the young boy, I’m afraid.”
“To the officers—my officers.” Derek raises his glass, slowly, deliberately, and it catches the light, casting a blood red shadow.
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