New Arsenal- Script ✧ 〈PLUS〉

The device rests on a pedestal of black glass. It looks like a tuning fork crossed with a human spine, humming at a frequency that makes Elena's molars ache.

Elena doesn't turn. "You said you had something for me. Something that doesn't exist yet." New Arsenal- script

Elena Markov, former curator of hidden technologies, runs her gloved hand along a wall that shouldn't be there. It gives slightly—not solid, not liquid. A membrane. The moment her fingers make contact, a soft chime resonates through the structure, and the wall dissolves into a cascade of silver light. The device rests on a pedestal of black glass

"Why me?"

Elena looks down at the device in her hands. In its polished surface, she sees not her reflection, but a version of herself she doesn't recognize—someone who has already made a choice. "You said you had something for me