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Glitter Sea
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>But what's up, Siobhan? You know what this 'evidence' is?
It's the dust samples I collected in those ruins a year ago.
The same fucking samples that that got us into this whole mess. And now, after my life's finally gotten back to some kind of normalcy, here they are, in my fucking kitchen.
>Say, these look somewhat reddish. I thought you said there used to be black powder in them?
Assuming it's the same dust I took samples of, then yeah, it's black. The shitty excuse for daylight we get down here just makes everything look red.
>Who's the motherfucker? Mike? Or that weirdo that fle-jumped off the balcony?
Whatever motherfucker decided to push the samples back on us, whoever the hell it was.
>why are they HERE after Mike apparently didn't want the damned things?
Good fucking question. I think Mike owes me a god-damned explanation.
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Before long, Mike shows up. He shouts for me, and I tell him I'm in the kitchen.
He walks in, and I hold up the samples, raising an eyebrow. "Your friend left us a present."
He looks at it and immediately gets a pained look on his face. "For fuck's sake," he growls.
"It's really something, ain't it?" I clench my fist, trying to keep my anger under control. "You mind tellin' me what the hell's going on?"
He stares at me for a second, then grabs the samples and sync gun, stowing both in his jacket. "C'mon, I'll give ya a ride ta work." He turns an about-face and leaves the kitchen.
I stand there, dumbfounded; I don't have work for at least a few more hours. "Mike, what the fuck."
"Don't wanna make ya late. We can talk about last night on the way," he shouts.
I've got half a mind to tell him I'm not going anywhere 'til I get some answers.
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