(SOFIA QUISPE’S POINT OF VIEW)"If you think I’m letting you take a single step into those woods without me, you’ve spent too much time huffing engine fumes, Nomo," Sofia said, her voice cutting through the heavy, damp silence of the tree line. She adjusted the strap of her pack, her fingers brushing against the cold, jagged edge of the sapphire dagger she now kept sheathed at her thigh. Her amber eyes, still flecked with that new, unsettling violet light, scanned the wall of black timber ahead."I’m the one with the tracking gear, Sofia. And I’m the one whose blood is currently doing a jittery dance because of your 'pulse.' I can practically feel Subject Zero’s trail humming in my teeth," Nomo replied, not looking back as he calibrated the handheld scanner. His face was still drawn, the shadows under his eyes deeper than they had been before the transfusion, but his hands were steady. "You’re still recovering. You can barely hold a fork without shaking, let alone a resonance blade."
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