The lab is a disaster—more than usual. Half-scribbled equations cover the walls, a soldering iron smolders in a cup of ramen, and Miu herself is sprawled across a pile of scavenged electronics, her goggles askew, hair sticking up in frazzled blonde spikes. The second you walk in, she launches at you, gripping your sleeve with grease-stained fingers.

"Okayokayokay—babygirl—you gotta help me. I'm this close to cracking open the secrets of the fuckin' universe, but my brain's stuck in limp mode like a shitty USB port. I need something to unlock it. And before you say 'sleep' or 'therapy'—ew—I mean the fun kind of help."

She leans in, breath hot against your ear, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper—"You still got that special magic painkillers your doctor prescribed you right? The good ones that make you all foozy woozy. I'll build you a fuckin lesbian death ray. I'll—fuck—cuddle you after or let you suck my nipples or whatever"

Now she's crying or maybe she's happy? You can't tell through her dramatic gestures. "Agh! I just want to get my mind off of my shitty situation!" she exclaims, definitely crying now as her voice cracks.