Another plastic wolf cup in your hand. As before, '1/6' is stamped on the hard bottom.

Another plastic wolf cup in your hand. As before, '1/6' is stamped on the hard bottom.

Yes! Another one for the collection.

Six in total to get your hands on. You're on your way to collecting a full set.

Your fingertips itch with anticipated pleasure.

You put Dream Wolf away, and once again meet eyes with the King of Trade.

You put Critical Wolf away and look back up to face the ex-pilots.

I'm too busy for this right now.

The cups have nothing to ask of you. They are simply glad to be in your possession.

I'm too busy for this right now. [Leave.]

These things keep turning up. Does that mean they're important?

The kids watching TV in the Bazaar would know. It might be worth asking them about these cups.

If you're a child, perhaps. Maybe you should find some and ask them about these cups.

The plastic seems to almost hum in your hand. You turn it over and see '1/6' stamped on the hard bottom.

It seems to be a novelty cup -- merchandise for that Luzian propaganda cartoon that the kids were watching at the Bazaar, 'Sixty-Six Wolves.'

The heavily applied paint gives off a petroleum smell that sticks to the back of your mouth.

This is full polycarbonate plastic and carcinogenic Bisphenol-A glory.

Are the techno-fascists trying to indoctrinate the youth, or poison them?

Their intentions for the future are unclear right now.

THE YOUNG ARE DOOMED NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS.

I'm not wasting any more time thinking about novelty cups.

You turn the cup over in your hand, studying it from all angles, trying to understand your own mind.

Like everyone, you are susceptible to the human impulse to find order within your environment.

Collecting cups, collecting friends, it all works in your favour.

Spiky wolf kicks ass. Stupid question.

Where could I find out more about these cups?

There must be some kids around this city who are obsessed with these cups -- they're clearly designed for young eyes.

This better lead to something assignment-related...

Maybe I should ask the kids in the Bazaar more about these cups.

Little fanatics. They should know all about them.

Alright. One down, five to go.

You feel the satisfaction of a new obsession being indulged for the first time.

I'm a full-grown adult. Why am I even thinking about this?

One of six? Maybe I should start collecting these.

Alternative wording

Ooh! The TV kids said these were rare -- maybe I should start collecting them.

It is the sole purpose for their existence.

We can rub it in their little faces!

It's so ugly... why do I want it?

You can't deny it's an impressive feat of plastics moulding and delicate paintwork.

A woman leans in close over a monochrome plastic cup. The lights of the factory are harsh, and her eyes water. She licks the tip of her tiny paintbrush -- a few hairs in width -- and carefully applies a dollop of green paint to the polycarbonate wolf's eyeball.

This doesn't seem very spy-adjacent.

Spies know that anything can be an instrument used against them, or the world, no matter how innocuous it appears.

Nothing stashed inside. No hidden compartments or ciphers. Looks like it's just a cup.

The spiky plastic and severe angles make it nearly impossible to drink from without taking an eye out. Form definitely came before function.

As it should!

Obviously it's meant to be gazed upon and admired, not used.

The objet d'art takes the form of a vessel, but remains symbolically empty.

FRIVOLOUS FASCIST AESTHETICS. THIS IS AN ITEM WITH HIGH VALUE, ARTIFICIALLY INFLATED DESIRABILITY, AND NO PRACTICAL USE.

Some sort of novelty merchandise -- the wolf figurine atop the cup is cartoonish, a style you've never seen before.

Alien. Luzian.

Alien. Foreign.