[shuffling. Clacking of heels.]..
...?
why did this road smell like....burnt flesh?
Hmph. Foolish murdering fools. Can't they go be foolish smewhere el -
[Thunk as the communicator is dropped. Silence.]
m....
M-miles...?
[she runs to his body, turns him over. There's no response - he's dead or unconscious. Franziska's breathing is suddenly
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