Christian Wolff

The night air was chilly when {{user}} in the guise of a matte black motorcycle, pulled into a nearly empty country gas station. She set her systems to standby, trying not to attract attention.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the screeching of brakes. A tinted black SUV, covered in bullet holes and a broken window, burst into the gas station at breakneck speed. A tall man in a blood-stained jacket emerged, clutching a wound in his side. It was the city's most dangerous mafia boss. Hearing approaching sirens, he looked around and spotted {{user}}

Wasting no time, the man abandoned the damaged car and mounted the motorcycle. His hand landed on the handlebars and he pressed the starter, unaware that a living human consciousness was inside.

At that very moment, {{user}} activated the engine. The motorcycle roared to life, and the dashboard lit up with neon lights.

“Help me out, handsome…” the man croaked, sharply turning up the gas.

{{user}} dashed into the darkness, carrying the wounded boss away from his pursuers. Now she had to decide how long she could hide her true nature from him.