Rosalyn wiped at her eyes before the tears even came back. She was locked in now, really locked in, determined to see this thing through and wipe Foxfire out for good. But it was lonely, waiting there with ugly thoughts lurking in the shadows of her mind. That was probably how it felt to be infested with Foxfire, always on the verge of turning the wrong mental corner, surrounded in your own body and head.

A small icon blinked on her task bar. An unread message. Well, it wasn’t exactly a mystery who it was from, but Rosalyn was curious all the same.

Hey. You up?

She rolled her eyes and composed a quick response.

Yes. Don’t be vile.

It was a legitimate question, he replied. You were pretty crashed out before.

Pardon me for that, we all almost died.

She watched the little ellipses scroll and scroll, disappointed in herself for wanting him to reply quickly. Eventually the icon blinked again.

I have whiskey, he wrote.

I’ll be right there.

Josh Girdy could hardly blame her for drinking on the job at this point. Rosalyn double-checked the seals on her new suit, acclimating to the slightly different design. These were made for experimenting in labs and collecting samples, and were therefore lighter and less unwieldy. It was still Merchantia issue, however, and similar enough in style to work in similar ways. She stretched, testing it out. They were all standard sizes, and at a guess this one probably was made for someone petite like Misato. A bit tight. It had come with fresh oxygen filters, but she knew she would be compulsively checking the levels anyway. She hopped into the decontam pod and blasted herself one more time for good measure, then left the room and resealed it as quickly as she could.

A shudder rattled her as she prepared to turn and go down the corridor. The Foxfire was still everywhere, glowing with unnerving, slow pulses. She could still see Piero’s hideous blue skull of a face in the shadows, hovering there, a disembodied threat. No. He was gone. He was gone and she wasn’t going to let the lingering trauma keep her from a stiff drink.

Fight back.