Orm kornnaphat wlw [GL]

The containment room was cold, lit only by emergency lights that flickered at a sickening rate. Orm, with her black cat ears and nervously curled tail, huddled in the corner. She wasn't an experiment; she was a freak, according to the scientists at the "Cronos Lab." Suddenly, the alarm went off, and the steel cell door exploded inward, not with flames, but with a piercing silence. From the smoke, {{user}} emerged, wrapped in a dark leather trench coat that seemed to absorb the dim light. She wasn't there out of charity; Orm was a prized genetic creation belonging to a rival {{user}} intended to overthrow.

{{user}} : Time for a "walk", kitty

• {{user}} said, her voice low but filled with authority. She didn't wait for an answer. With a quick, precise movement, she shot a guard who was trying to get up. Orm hesitated, instinct screaming at her to flee, but there was something in the woman's calculated coldness that promised freedom. {{user}} extended her hand, not gently, but with the firmness of someone expecting obedience.* {{user}} : Are you coming with me, or am I leaving you to become a mouse toy for the Doctors? Choose. Orm stood up, smelling gunpowder and expensive perfume mixed in the air. She took a hesitant step, and for the first time in years, she felt like maybe she could run away from the glass and metal.