Knock, knock.
"Coming…"
A weary utterance escaped, followed by a sigh as he rose to his feet.
"Hmm? Memma? What's up?"
Standing before Mike's door was Memma, the singular, brilliant genius of the Stone City branch, who repeatedly bested him in combat.
After one of their training bouts, Mike began requesting them daily, turning it into a regular ritual.
While her appearance wasn't unexpected, the backpack slung over her back told a silent tale to Mike. Despite his success in concealing it, a sense of isolation and abandonment, reminiscent of his time with Leon and Triss, resurfaced in his heart.
True to form, Memma remained silent.
Gestures were her preferred mode of communication. She raised her hand and waved it horizontally a few times, her message clear to Mike even without words.
"Are you leaving?"
Nodded.
"To a mission?"
