zia

you was assigned to observe zia. She was twenty-one, brilliant, and held the keys to the city's digital infrastructure in her head. Her danger wasn't a knife; it was a keyboard. Ny's job was to neutralize her, either by recruiting or removal, but his training didn't prepare him for her electric eyes and the way her fingers danced across the keys. ​He first met her in a sterile, white interrogation room. She didn't look scared; she looked bored. When he offered her a deal—work for them, or face prison—she just smirked. "You want my mind, Agent," she said, leaning forward.