Deep in the wasteland workshop, constant low temperature and mechanical humming formed eternal background noise.
On the specialized medical bed, Sasha Yakovleva's slender eyelashes fluttered several times, like struggling at nightmare's edge.
She finally opened her eyes, gaze first settling blankly on the metal ceiling overhead bristling with tubes and sensors, then stiffly turning sideways.
What came into view were those familiar faces of Maine's crew—written all over with worry and exhaustion.
"Sasha! You're awake!" Rebecca shouted first, green optics wide, voice bursting with uncontainable excitement. She practically sprang up, about to dive toward the medical bed, but Pilar grabbed her jacket from behind.
"Jesus Christ, cool it!" Pilar stumbled as she dragged him. His freshly optimized mechanical arm held her tight. "Boss said she can't handle shocks right now! Calm down!"
"Calm down my ass! Let go, Pilar!" Rebecca twisted violently, elbowing backward trying to break free. "She's been out this long! Let me see her!"
"See her all you want, just don't charge in like a missile!" Pilar grimaced as she knocked into him but wouldn't let go. "She's precision equipment right now! You break something, you paying for it?"
"I'll pay then! Now let go!" Rebecca jerked hard. Pilar nearly toppled, but Dorio steadied him with one hand.
"How you feeling, Sasha?" Maine's voice was deep and gentle. His tall frame leaned closer, casting shadow, gaze openly concerned.
Sasha's mouth moved, throat too dry to produce clear sound—only hoarse gasps.
A slender mechanical tentacle extended from beside the medical bed, precisely delivering liquid down her throat.
The cool sensation jolted her awake. She tried moving fingers but only felt strange heaviness and disconnection.
She instinctively wanted to look down at her body but found her neck's range of motion extremely limited. Vision also obscured by translucent bio-gel and complex support structures.
"...Am I..." Her voice weak and hoarse. "...still alive?"
"No shit! Otherwise you chatting with us from hell right now?" Rebecca finally broke Pilar's grip, rushed to bedside in a few strides, hands on hips, tone harsh and urgent but eyes reddening. "You know you almost actually died?! If the boss hadn't pulled off miracles and we hadn't gotten there in time, you'd be a smear under Biotechnica Tower by now—a nasty fucking smear!"
She seemed unable to find proper words, finally just stomping hard. Metal heels rang crisp against floor.
"Just glad you're alive." Dorio's voice stayed steady. She gently patted Sasha's uninjured shoulder area. "Don't rush moving. Your body... needs time adjusting."
Falco and Pilar also gathered around, faces showing relief. Pilar rubbed his chest where Rebecca had knocked him, muttering "this girl's gotten stronger again."
The crew's warm atmosphere rippled Sasha's cold heart briefly, but then memories flooded in violently, washing away that fleeting comfort. Biotechnica, painkillers, Mom, data, upload, robots breaking through doors, shattered windows, wind roaring in ears during the fall...
Her gaze instantly lost that awakening confusion, consumed by deep pain and despair. She remembered why she'd chosen to leap. Remembered that data she'd sent at life's cost.
"...The data..." She looked urgently at Maine, voice trembling. "News 54... did they... publish it?"
That question instantly froze the workshop atmosphere.
Maine's face muscles tightened. He took a deep breath like suppressing something. Dorio looked away. Falco adjusted glasses, silently lowering his head. Pilar nervously rubbed fingers together.
Rebecca's reaction was most direct—like ignited powder keg exploding instantly: "Publish?! Publish shit! Sasha! You're a complete fucking moron! Grade-A certified dumbass!"
Sharp curses echoed through the workshop. Sasha's body involuntarily flinched.
"Rebecca!" Maine growled, trying to intervene.
"Don't stop me, Maine! I'm gonna yell some sense into this idiot whose brain's packed with cyber-lube!" Rebecca's green optics bored into Sasha, finger nearly poking her nose. "What makes you think you couldn't trust us? Huh?! You think dying solves everything? Think dying means Biotechnica leaves us alone?! Open your goddamn eyes and look!
Because of your 'heroic' self-sacrifice, we're all on Biotechnica's shit list now! Bounty's enough to buy half a Watson street block!"
"Rebecca, that's enough!" Pilar tried pulling her back again. This time Rebecca violently shook him off—force so strong Pilar stumbled into a nearby tool rack with a loud clang.
"Back off! I'm not done!" Rebecca's chest heaved violently, pointing at Sasha. "What did you think we were? Fair-weather drinking buddies who can't share gunfire?!"
Maine picked up the thread, voice heavy and serious like cold stone crushing Sasha's heart: "Sasha, Rebecca's crude but she's right. You shouldn't have kept us in the dark. We're a crew. Family. Family means shouldering troubles together, facing danger together. Shutting us out—that's what hurts most."
Sasha's face went paler. Lips moved but no sound came.
Maine continued, tone carrying heartbreaking calm analysis: "Pinning hopes on News 54 was a long shot from the start. Big media have way deeper corporate ties than you can imagine.
They might bash corps over minor edge stories, but core pharmaceutical scandals that could shake foundations? First thing they consider is their own survival.
It's been nearly a week since your incident. Any movement from News 54? None. They chose silence—or got 'persuaded' into silence."
This news was the final straw completely crushing Sasha.
The last faint light in her eyes extinguished, replaced by dead, ashen darkness. She thought she'd traded her life for clearing Mom's injustice, thought her death could at least tear a corner off Biotechnica's hypocritical mask...
But the result—just like that night years ago watching Mom tortured to death by false hope—all efforts and sacrifice were futile.
Tears silently slid from her eyes, mixing into cold bio-gel. She closed her eyes like trying to shut out the entire world.
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