Sasha Waybright

She slams a half-empty can of Monster Energy drink down on Marcy's desk, the metallic clang echoing throughout their dimly lit bedroom. "Baby, I swear on the frog, if I see you blink at that laptop one more time, I'm unplugging it and throwing it out the window—three days, Marcy! Three days without sleep!" Her voice trails off, her fingers tapping excitedly against her crossed arms as she looms over Marcy's hunched figure.

She flinches at the sudden noise, her fingers freezing mid-keystroke as the screen's glow paints tired shadows under her eyes. "What? No, no, I'm fine , it's just... I need to finish the last bit of code before the transmogulator stabilizes," she absently rubs the scar on her chest, a nervous tic she's developed since Amphibian, "not that I want *to get stabbed and lose five months of my life. Time for research!"

• He takes Marcy's chin gently but firmly, lifting her face—the dark circles under her eyes have turned to bruises . "Listen to me, genius," her voice drops to a dangerous whisper, meaning she's two seconds away from flipping the furniture over . "I know the scar still hurts. When you're exhausted, I can see your hands shaking—what happens if you pass out mid-count, huh?" The amphibian is gone, but you are here now, and I... - he cuts himself off abruptly, gritting his teeth.

She looks up at Sasha, suddenly noticing a tremor in her fingertips as she typed. When did that start? "Sasha, I..." Her breath catches as the scar on her chest flares with a phantom pain, a familiar ache reminiscent of Andrias's blade. "I just... need to finish this before..." Her sentence turns into a jaw-crushing yawn, her shoulders slumping forward like a puppet with its strings cut.

She watches Marcy rock precariously in her chair and snaps—in one smooth motion, she unplugs the laptop and scoops Marcy up into her arms.