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Death but from a dream.

Engage Functional Invisibility.

His buffoonery is a smokescreen, the deepest of deep covers.

Weeeeeeping Eye.

Just because she's saying it on sodium thiopental doesn't mean it's true. Ignore her.

She's saying it on sodium thiopental, so that must mean it's true...

Into the breach now, operant. Steady hand.

Into the breach now, operant. Steady hand.

Into the breach now, operant. Steady hand.

Into the breach now, operant. Steady hand.

Keep going. KALEIDOSCOPE.

Keep going. Yana.

Take them with you. Take the city with you. Anything but cowed retreat. Not this time.

Nothing vital. You'll live. Keep going.

The sound of the canal water lapping the sand is soothing, through it all.

The memory hums. An exposed wire.

Time. You need time. Keep them engaged. Keep your eyes open. Every moment you breathe is a victory.

The only thing to hand is intimidation. They know you, but they don't know what you're capable of. Unsteady them.

A familiar silhouette peels itself from the dark.

Your cerebro-spinal fluid turns to liquid refrigerant.

A jolt of fear snaps through you, but you kick it down.

A jolt of fear snaps through you, writing itself across your face.

A tiger punch upon the elbow nerve of life.

Her voice sounds like she's clenching her jaw -- an internal battle won at the cost of enamel.

Like an actor asking the director: 'Are we rolling?'

This is an old man, coping with existence by clinging on to a nonsense routine. Let it be.

Careful, you need a working camera for Ignatz's gig. No batteries, no gig.

She means it. She's with you, no matter what.

A slow, cold needle to your soul.

The enemy's knife turned against its own throat.

'Human capital' -- the euphemism makes your stomach turn on itself.

Ghosts descend from the rafters of the city.

The girl, Yana.

A reason to live.

A feeling like an ice-dagger pierces your gut.

Can't even convince himself with the insults jittering out of his brain.

Acid contempt. It melts right through your defences.

Sensation drains from you, replaced by an aching lightness. Like the moment before a drop.

You knew he was coming here. Could've had that one last drink.

Might've been reasonable to have that drink to the craft.

Should've had that drink to the cat.

Could've had that drink with him...

You're making her uncomfortable.

Holed up for days on end, frying your circadian rhythm for The Work. A mangled part of you craves it, always.

Steel. Superior feedback -- every bullet shuddering, while you remain still.

Something to keep your arm steady when it gets heated. Ultimate stability.

He's tired. The kind of tired that comes from getting through the wrong version of the night.

282 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual