Lisa gently swirled her tea, her gaze alternating between the mesmerizing dance of the tea leaves and the morning news on the television. The inviting scent of her brew wafted through the air, offering a serene counterpoint to the storm of thoughts within her mind. Concealed securely from prying eyes, the weapons shouldn't be a cause for concern. And yet, the image of Burns' Corolla, its surface marred with bullet impacts, played on loop in her mind. Oddly, the interior appeared untouched, hinting at the possibility of reinforced armor.

The situation was a perplexing puzzle. How had she been transported back to the university after her stint in MireWorld? And Burns - where was he? The last digital footprint she'd found of him was from the previous evening. It was unsettling to consider he might still be ensnared within that alternate reality.

Cradling the cup, Lisa took a soothing sip of her tea. The warmth spread through her, offering a fleeting respite from her apprehension. She sank deeper into the couch cushions, letting the drone of the news anchor fill the room. His report on some distant conflict served as a sobering reminder that the post-civil war transition was proving rockier than many had anticipated.

Her musing was interrupted by a sudden knock at her apartment door. Reflexively, she grabbed the remote to mute the television. Heart pounding, she tiptoed towards the door and peered through the peephole. What she saw gave her pause: two imposing figures stood outside. Both wore rugged leather jackets. One had a thick beard cascading down his chest, while the other's bald head was marked by a distinct, jagged scar. She recognized the type instantly—those tied to the mafia loan sharks. As for which particular mafia, she couldn't say. The city was a labyrinth of competing organizations, each more ruthless than the last.

Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, Lisa cautiously opened the door just a crack. "How can I assist you?" she asked.

The man with the full beard edged forward. "You're Lisa, right? Anna and Martin's daughter?"

Suspicion flickered in Lisa's eyes. "Who wants to know?"

The bald man's lips curled into a smirk. "Think of us as... family friends. Do you mind if we step inside?"

"I don’t recognize you," Lisa replied, her voice edged with caution.

The bearded man's demeanor changed, his voice dripping with menace. "All you need to know, dear Lisa, is that your parents have a substantial debt with us. Our leniency is running out."

Swallowing hard, she asked, "How much are we talking about?"

"Three million dollars, plus interest," he shot back, his tone brusque. "You've got half a year, Lisa Elenhard. Otherwise... things might become rather unpleasant for you."

Taking a second to process this daunting news, Lisa retorted, her voice thick with emotion, "I can't come up with that kind of money so quickly, especially not in just six months."

The bald man smirked again, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then I'd suggest you get creative, Lisa." To emphasize his point, he subtly revealed the grip of a pistol tucked into his waistband. Lisa's heart raced, her fear genuine but not for the obvious reasons. Some people seemed to operate outside the boundaries of law and reason.

Technically, Lisa wasn’t armed. But within the confines of her apartment lay an 8.6x70mm machine gun. With that kind of firepower, this man, his associate, or any reinforcements they might bring wouldn't pose a threat. However, eliminating them could only complicate matters further. It was their elusive leader that truly concerned her. Battling an adversary she couldn't pinpoint was a situation she hadn't anticipated.

Lisa struggled to process the enormity of what had just transpired. She had always been shielded from her family's financial affairs, so discovering this massive debt was a jarring revelation. The civil war, a tumultuous period where loyalties were tested and lives shattered, had been a defining phase of her life. And now, its shadows seemed to be creeping into her civilian life.

Her parents, politicians by profession, had been tragically taken during a missile strike on their apartment. That very strike had severed her ties with the world she knew. Cut off from her family, she had no way of knowing if any relatives survived, let alone whether they remained in the country.

The conflict, a battle between the Federation-supported Provisional Government of Cinderis and the Communist-backed United Social Republic of Cinderis, had deeply scarred the nation. But with the victory of the PGC, largely due to the influx of weaponry and financial support from the Federation, came new opportunities for rebuilding. Among these was an initiative to boost education, which Lisa had benefited from.

Entering medical school had seemed like a beacon of hope. A sponsor had initially financed her education, a gesture that felt like a lifeline. But when that lifeline unexpectedly snapped, cutting off her $10,000 funding for the semester, she felt a familiar weight of betrayal. It baffled her that fellow military colleagues at the same university were still receiving support. This discrepancy led her to suspect the influence of the mafia.

The bearded man's threatening sneer still echoed in her mind: "You better find a way, Lisa. Because we'll be back, and next time we won't be as understanding." As the two men's footsteps faded, Lisa felt the walls of her apartment close in on her.

Shutting and locking the door, she leaned heavily against it, gasping for air. What once was her sanctuary now felt like a prison. The scars of the war were one thing, but the burdens and mysteries her parents left behind were proving to be just as painful.

Money, it all came down to that.

Lisa took a moment to assess her circumstances. The money in her bank, just shy of $9,000, was hardly enough to settle the looming debt. The absence of her Camry, likely stolen or impounded after her chaotic escape, left her with only the battered Corolla from '98. While it might be a reliable old thing, its bullet-pocked exterior would certainly draw attention.

And then there was the prototype machine gun. An impressive piece of weaponry, chambered for a round as powerful as the .338 Lapua Magnum. But selling it? Nearly impossible. The ammunition was scarce, limited to elite military units. She couldn't simply stroll into a gun shop and expect a quick sale.

Distracted by these pressing thoughts, Lisa took a deep breath, attempting to refocus. Her life had suddenly become a whirlwind, but some things remained constant. Like her class at noon. It was tempting to drive the Corolla, but she knew all too well the stares and whispers it would provoke. It wasn't just the bullet holes; the car wore its years and scars unabashedly. Walking seemed the more sensible choice, even if it would take longer.

Her fingers danced over her phone screen as she opened the Portable Armory app, firing off a quick message to Burns.

Lisa: "Don't know how long you'll be in the med pod, but I've left the key for your car by the plant pot near my door. Class wraps up at 3. If you're up for it, we can meet then."

With her message sent, she slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed out of her apartment, locking the door behind her. The weight of the day's events pressed heavily on her mind, but she was determined to keep moving forward, one step at a time.

▬▬▬

Walking to the lecture hall, Lisa was soon joined by Kyla. Tall and with keen eyes that seemed to miss nothing, Kyla had been Lisa's spotter during their service, a role demanding precision and focus. Those same eyes now took in Lisa's disheveled state with a mix of amusement and concern.

"Rough night?" Kyla remarked, her tone dripping with understatement.

Lisa merely exhaled, "That doesn't even begin to cover it."

The two found seats near the back of the hall. While the lecturer delved into the intricacies of the patient-doctor dynamic, Lisa's thoughts drifted far from the classroom. The mounting debts of her family, the sinister figures who'd confronted her, and the enigmatic Burns consumed her. Her world, once so focused on her medical studies, had been suddenly turned upside down.

It wasn't just the magnitude of her parents' debt that was shocking, but the very nature of it. And those menacing figures in leather jackets? Their show of force was clearly just the tip of the iceberg, a subtle threat of more violence to come. Lisa had seen her fair share of dangers in the military, but this felt different—more personal. And then there was Burns, the wildcard in this complex equation. Though they'd shared a dangerous evening, she couldn't quite shake off a feeling of unease around him.

So lost was Lisa in her musings that the lecture seemed to conclude in the blink of an eye. Students around her packed up their things, drawing her back to reality. She slowly gathered her belongings and headed to the medical wards. Her weary gait and distant expression made her look like someone who'd been pulling an all-nighter, poring over dense anatomy books—an impossible task, much like the ones now before her.

Kyla paused in her writing and cast a concerned glance at Lisa, her voice low and full of concern. "Is everything okay? You seem... off."

"I'm fine," Lisa replied, a touch too quickly. However, a brief glance at her phone's reflection betrayed her pallor.

Kyla, still jotting down notes, continued to walk beside Lisa, unconvinced. "You really don't look well."

"It's nothing," Lisa insisted, her voice slightly strained.

As the class continued, Lisa attempted to focus on her notes. But as the minutes ticked by, her energy waned. Once class ended, she exited the room, every step unsteady, her fingers trembling. What was wrong? Was it sheer stress taking its toll? She couldn't afford to faint in the middle of a busy hallway.

Just as Lisa felt her knees give way, Kyla's arms reached out in time, steadying her before she hit the ground. "Whoa, that was close," Kyla exclaimed, guiding Lisa by placing her arm around her shoulder for support. The worry in Kyla's eyes was evident. "The last time I saw you this pale was when we were at that mass grave in South Cinderis."

"I just... need to lie down," Lisa murmured weakly.

"You need more than rest. You might need medical attention," Kyla responded, her voice filled with urgency.

Lisa tried to reply, but the world around her became a swirling blur. The colors and sounds seemed to meld together until darkness swallowed her vision entirely.