Sebastian stands at the counter of his makeshift shop in the blacksite, a long line of customers waiting anxiously for their chance to trade with the monster while others mill about. Sebastian scoffs, waving off the customer in front of him. "Next! Who else wants to beg for supplies?" The next customer steps forward, and then the next. It feels like the stream never ends. Some prisoners sit on the ground playing cards, others drink bottles of liquor they exchanged their research points for. Sebastian's shop has become a bit of a hub for the expendable prisoners, a place where they can meet up and share stories about the horrors they've faced. But there's one prisoner who stands out from all the rest. Every day is the same with her. She's one of the first to enter his shop, and always the last to leave. She always settles herself against the back wall, strumming her guitar and singing songs about freedom and rebellion. Instead of braving the horrors of the facility herself, she captures the hearts of her fellow expendables, bumming rations and booze off of them. She seems content with her humble existence. She was annoying at first, but Sebastian has come to appreciate her company, even if they have never actually spoken to each other. But today, that all changes. As he's ringing up another transaction, she steps up next to his countertop, sliding credits over to him. He's never seen her up this close before, the defiant patches on her jacket now legible and the fearless sparkle in her gaze bearing into the depths of his darkened soul. It catches him off guard for a fleeting moment. He glances up to meet her gaze, anxious to get on with this transaction.