The locker room was cold, and Margo's eyes fought to stay open. It was rare that she managed to go a whole night without sleep, but the previous night was one such evening. After emptying her guts into her workplace's toilet, she went home to continue the painful process. She tried telling herself it was just something she ate, or maybe it was the fact she saw several helpless individuals gunned down in the Psycho Slums earlier because Andrade and the other officers didn't want to take a chance.

Or maybe it was because of Ellie's return. Or even Carl's. Or Royce's. Or somebody! She just knew something significant would come into her life way too soon, and she knew that it very likely wasn't for the best.

Being stuck in a locker room with Andrade while they were both in nothing more than their underwear did nothing to soothe her either.

"Goddamn, Sandoval," Andrade groaned, waiting by the lockers away from the toilet stalls. "Are you sick or something?"

No, Margo thought, her head dangling over the toilet, feeling like it would pop off like a bottle cap. I'm just terrified of going to a place where the rates of sexual violence are triple the amount of the rest of the country.

"If you don't feel good, then I'll let Mason know you're not cut out for this. Those suits they're bringing are expensive as shit, y'know. You puke on yours, you pay for it."

"Shut up," Margo hissed. "For one second, please."

She leaned against the silver wall of the stall surrounding her, flinching as the freezing cold metal made contact with her bare shoulder. Her head felt empty, as if nothing more than air filled it. Her eyelids hung low over her eyes, and the poisonous feeling of worry still radiated in her stomach. Every breath was met with the sensation of a boot lowering down onto her chest, crushing her underneath.

"Tick tock, Sandoval," Andrade said. "I'll leave the room and get you some help if you need it."

"You're really..." Margo groaned, gasping for air, "gonna walk out...in nothing but your bra and panties?"

"Easiest way of getting someone's attention. I could get you a nurse or something faster that way. Maybe even make someone's day."

Yes, because that's what you're good at, Margo thought again. Making people's days.

"Alright, time's up. They're coming in."

Margo flinched as the locker room door flew open with a deafening crash followed by a series of footsteps.

"Oh?" a woman said, and the footsteps stopped. "Usually our customers don't undress until the demonstration begins."

"We're kind of in a rush," Andrade replied. "Inspector Daniela Andrade. Hope you like what you see."

Margo rolled her eyes as she rose from the floor, goosebumps rippling across her skin as she moved away from the edge of the stall. She flushed the toilet and, with a reluctant sigh, stepped out into the bright white lights, a row of sinks positioned in front of her. To her left where all the lockers were stood Andrade, clad in red underwear with her robotic arm on full display, leathery scars blemishing the skin around her elbow where the limb connected. Another woman stood before her, but Margo could only see two suitcases peeking out of the corner leading into the locker room.

"And there's the other," Andrade said. "Officer Margo Sandoval. She's pretty hot, too."

"Shut up," Margo growled, and she marched over to the sink to wash her hands.

"Well, props for hygiene, but could you really be any slower?"

"No, it's fine," the other woman replied. "Take your time honestly! I'm in no rush."

"Honey, don't tell her that. We'll be here for years now."

Before Margo could shut the water off, she splashed her face several times, the coolness becoming the first thing in hours to ease her worries. Her throat burned and her mouth was dry, but she felt ready to take on the next trial that awaited her, and that was getting into one of those special suits Mason ordered for them.

She marched out of the restroom into the locker room, finally encountering the stranger with the suitcases. She was shorter than her and Andrade, about a head lower, and she had dark skin. She wore jeans and a plain white T-shirt with nothing on it but her company's logo, a cyan letter B emblazoned in the middle of a black square. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and Margo could tell she was nothing worse than harmless, not an ounce of hostility in her expression or body language.

"Hello there, Miss Sandoval," she greeted with a smile. "Are the two of you ready to suit up?"

"Yes, ma'am," Margo croaked, resulting in a fit of coughs.

The woman glanced over at Andrade. "Should I run and get her some water?"

"Later," Andrade replied. "We're on a tight schedule. Go ahead and start."

With a quick inhale, the woman began. "Good afternoon, you two. I'm Alyssa Kapoor. I work for Bulwark Ensemble, a company that specializes in protective clothing and accessories for a wide range of activities such as swimming, hunting, traveling through crime-ridden urban landscapes, and many more. Your commissioner brought me and my colleagues in today having ordered four packages of one of our best products to date: the BufferSuit Mark 6. Have either of you heard of this product?"

"I know it's very popular among rape victims," Andrade replied, staring down at her robotic arm. "As well as individuals on the autism spectrum or dealing with social anxiety."

"Yes, many of our customers find our clothing's restrictive forms and indestructible material very comforting. We even sell sleeve versions of these to help heroin users break their addictions and prevent individuals from cutting themselves or engaging in other forms of self-harm." Alyssa paused to lower the suitcases down to the floor beside her. "However, these BufferSuits work a lot like the Blurs you officers wear, but far less conspicuous since anyone can own one of these, which makes these a highly recommended tool for infiltrating public spaces."

"Yes, ma'am," Margo said blankly.

Alyssa squatted down to the floor to open the cases up. With the beeps and taps of some buttons, they clicked open like toolboxes, the lids popping off and colliding with the floor with a loud smack. Each case contained a single black bodysuit folded into a square, but from where they stood, it appeared to be nothing more than a carbon jacket or sweater. Alyssa retrieved the coats from their case, revealing a pair of pants designed with the same materials beneath as well as two charcoal-colored gloves.

"First, you put on the shirt," she said, handing them to each officer before returning for the rest of the clothes. "Then the pants, shoes, and gloves in that order. I'll explain once the two of you are ready."

The material was cool against Margo's skin as she slid the shirt over her shoulders and stomach, but it was just as comforting as she expected, like putting on a raincoat in the midst of a drizzle. It was also baggier than she initially predicted. Air bubbles sprouted out all over the coat and sleeves as she slid the hem down to the waistband of her panties. She then proceeded to slide her legs into the pants, and once again, she underestimated the garment's size, embarrassed to think she'd have to wear one far too big for such a violating mission.

"I feel like I'm sliding on warmups in the middle of the damn summer," Andrade quipped, and Alyssa laughed. "Sandoval, are you gonna keep flashing your ass at us, or are you gonna pull up your pants yet?"

"Shut up!" Margo hissed as she hauled the pants up to her waist. Another painful sting appeared in her gut as if a toxic arrow had stricken her out of nowhere.

Andrade chuckled. "See that, Miss Kapoor? Gotta love her reactions."

"You're making me very uncomfortable, Inspector," Margo growled, and while she couldn't see it for herself, she could feel her face glowing bright red. Humiliation made its way down her body from her head to her toes, as if she'd been dangled upside down, hundreds of feet from a quick but messy demise, blood pooling in her skull.

"Well yeah, why do you think I keep making them?"

"People like you," Margo continued, forcing her feet into the boots, "are the reason workplace harassment still exists."

Andrade's playful smirk vanished. "Grow a fucking spine, Sandoval. I was just messing around."

Margo stomped her foot on the ground to get the shoe on. "You really expect me to be in the mood for jokes and unwanted advances minutes before a very dangerous mission?"

"Cabrona, I was lightening the fucking mood. You're safe with us! Probably think you're fucking better than the rest of us."

"I'm not better than anyone. You're just worst than all of us!"

Andrade gasped, forcing herself to laugh off some of the embarrassment. "You don't give a fuck about your job at all, do you? Talking shit like this."

"I don't think anything about my job other than I need to get it done." Sliding a glove onto her right hand, Margo turned to their guest. "And since I take my job very seriously, I should apologize for this, Miss Kapoor. We are normally far more professional than this here at Psychwatch when not bogged down by stress."

Alyssa shrugged, but Margo could tell she was burdened with massive discomfort at the sight of them. "Well, the two of you got the apparel on at least," she laughed. "Many of my customers often struggle to get them on, but the two of you got it done faster than I'd anticipated. Oh, and Officer Andrade, ma'am, since you possess a cybernetic limb, you will only need one glove for your organic arm."

"Got it," Andrade muttered.

"And now that everything's on, I'm sure you're both wondering why your clothes appear oversized. You probably feel more like you're wearing winter clothes than near-impenetrable body armor, right?"

"Right," Margo replied. She felt like she was trapped in a deflated balloon.

"Well, have no fear, ladies. Just tap your thumbs against the tip of your ring fingers and keep your hands away from any other buttons on your clothes."

The two officers did so. In that brief sequence of taps, Margo could see blue light emanating in her fingertips, specifically her thumb and ring finger just as instructed. And with a rush of air across her face, arms, and legs, the suit shrank around her body. The smooth black fiber was snug against her skin as it instantly fitted her form, yet she felt less violated now that Andrade wasn't assaulting her with degrading comments. The suit felt almost like she'd been wrapped in a bedsheet, not a single article of clothing coming between her and the covers. She felt safer now.

"As you can see," Alyssa explained, "the BufferSuit was designed to be form-fitting. It was made with modified aramid fibers ensuring tremendous strength while also providing comforting softness. Because of it, the suit is fireproof, stab-proof, bulletproof to low and medium-caliber firearms, and impenetrable even by non-metallic ammunition such as blasts from a Fatemaker. It's also absorbent of kinetic energy, meaning gunshots and physical combat will not be able to knock you off your feet. Furthermore, the material is regenerative, meaning any damage done to the suit via tearing or burning will repair itself automatically."

"That's pretty impressive," Andrade replied, glancing down as the suit gripped around her body aside from her artificial hand. "You sure it does all that, honey?"

"I wear them six times every month as a demonstration. I promise this thing is indestructible. The only way you could possibly get hurt while wearing this if you're taking it off. Which reminds me: to remove the suit, press the buttons on your neck, waist, and wrists only once to return it to its normal state where it can be removed safely. And don't worry about the buttons; they can only be activated through your fingerprint ID, which is synced with the gloves so you won't have to remove them. Any other questions or further demonstrations?"

"Demonstrations?" Margo repeated.

"I always bring a handgun and a knife with me in case the customers want to see proof of the suit's abilities."

"The commissioner just let you bring a gun in, no questions asked?" Andrade chuckled.

"No, she gave me permission to bring them in. Although, I guarantee it would've been a struggle to get in if I wasn't actually invited."

Something about that statement made Margo feel uneasy.

Alyssa cleared her throat and clapped her hands together. "Well, nonetheless, please thank your commissioner for purchasing our products. I hope they live up to your expectations, or it's your money back. Even though—and I'm not exaggerating—we've never let a single customer down."

"Never, Miss Kapoor?" Andrade smirked.

"Ever."

* * *

Minutes later, the three women left the locker room, stepping into the hallway as the impact of their feet against the ground echoed through the building. Margo and Alyssa followed Andrade out, trailing behind in silence, the two of them awaiting something life-changing. Or at least Margo told herself that.

She didn't know what to make of the incoming future. Even when clad in attire as solid as concrete, she knew something was coming. Something big. Maybe even terrible. It might've had to do with Miss Kapoor strolling alongside her and Andrade, especially the way they looked at each other. Maybe it was the building's sudden desolation. Maybe it was her sister. Or her father. Or her mother. Or the spirit of Dottie Forrester coming back to haunt her.

Suddenly, she wished she could've buried the girl herself. Maybe that would've put her at ease. And it would've come right back once she'd realize everyone else was still there. So many people that needed to be buried.

The women passed by the men's restroom, slowing their pace as a colleague emerged from the door. It was Kusanagi. Japanese-American man working for the Neutralizers. He was around Andrade's age and a rank or two beneath her. Small scars specked around his lips, and Margo couldn't remember if they were from the House of Pleasure or the rally. Or maybe they were always there.

"Sandoval, Andrade," he nodded, smoothing his hand across the sleeve of his BufferSuit. "You two ready?"

"Yes, sir," Andrade declared proudly. "Holloway having trouble suiting up in there?"

"Nah, he finished early and had to report to the tech lab to have his surveillance implants activated. I kinda feel bad for that guy. Do you have any idea how much optical cams sting when installing?"

"Can't say I do. And I doubt Holloway does either considering how he boosted the shit out of his pain tolerance with that Apath addiction of his."

Bet you can relate to that, Margo thought.

"Good point," Kusanagi said. "Guess we'll find out soon."

"Is this the right door?" Alyssa asked, standing before the entrance to the lobby.

Margo snapped out of another daze. She realized she didn't know where she was being led until Alyssa said it out loud, especially since the destination after that would be extraordinarily unpleasant. Anywhere but the Rabbit Hole, she thought over and over. Anywhere but there. I can't die today. Bad things will happen if I do.

She didn't know what those bad things were, but she knew they'd come.

Alyssa nudged through the doors with her shoulder, her arms weighed down by the suitcases. Upon entry, Margo and her colleagues were greeted by dozens upon dozens of officers clad in black, regular body armor marked with streaks of white light. Not a single one had a distinguishable face. Just heads obscured by opaque helmets and blurry name tags that Margo couldn't decipher from her position in the room. Commissioner Mason stood in the center of the cavernous lobby, a medium-sized screen floating inches before her face. Her back was turned towards her incoming colleagues, her mind elsewhere in a supposedly more important place.

"Hello, Commissioner," Alyssa chirped, waving her hand despite not being in Mason's line of sight.

Andrade laughed. "You're adorable, Miss Kapoor. Just wait. She'll turn around any sec—"

"Quiet please," Mason ordered, still focused on the screen before her.

Margo fought back the urge to laugh upon witnessing Andrade's utter humiliation, the woman stumbling backward as if she'd been physically wounded. But something told her to quit laughing before she'd end up being the next joke.

A minute later, the screen before Mason vanished, and she stood at ease, her hands behind her back. Another door on the opposite end of the lobby opened, and Holden, Nikki, and a borderline catatonic Jack clad in a BufferSuit marched in. Jack still had that uncanny way of walking that Margo took notice of the day she learned of his mended spine, as if his legs had been replaced with an automated machine that merely resembled legs, but she noticed even his hands and facial muscles were acting strangely. His fingers remained extended and stiff as if they were frozen in place, and his expression was crooked, something caught between a grin and a poker face. And two blue lights were flashing out of his pupils.

Can he even blink anymore? Margo thought with a wince.

"Is he ready, Atkinson?" Mason asked.

Nikki gulped. "Y-Y-Yes, ma'am. The—" she coughed, "Uh, all sensory implants have been activated. Visual, auditory, olfactory, t-t-tactile, and phonic. H-H-Highly sensitive equipment. Will temporarily deactivate for ten minutes if the user falls asleep or is knocked unconscious while implants are in use."

"You hear that, Holloway?" Holden added.

Jack turned his head so at least his ear faced his young colleague. "Quit talking like you're safe around me, kid," he replied. "Because you're not."

"Holloway," Mason chimed in, and when he looked back toward her, she shot him right in the chest with his Fatemaker. His BufferSuit absorbed the incoming ray of orange energy like a vapor, leaving behind a small glowing spot in the fibers before vanishing. And while everyone else in the room leaped a few feet back at the sound of the shot, Jack didn't even flinch.

Mason holstered her gun in her MagniSheath. "I'm impressed, Miss Kapoor," she said. "And that's not something I usually say. Your company's products live up to their reputation so far."

"Thank you, Commissioner," Alyssa replied sheepishly.

"Let's just hope they can handle knives and bullets and other shit they'll throw at us down there."

"I promise they will, ma'am." She paused. "If you don't mind me asking, what do these four officers need these suits for?"

"I'm afraid that's classified information. However, I must ask: do you live anywhere near Stephenson or Bradbury?"

"No, ma'am, I'm from West Philadelphia. Born and raised just like Will Smith."

"You make that joke a lot, Miss Kapoor?"

"All the damn time, ma'am."

Mason forced herself to laugh. "Thanks again for your cooperation," she said. "You're free to go."

With a nod of her head and one last gander at Andrade, Alyssa marched to the exit, vanishing into the crowd of Psychwatch officers before her.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen!" thundered Mason's voice through the lobby. "Today is a very big day. Slater has just alerted me of his position within the Rabbit Hole. He's ready for us."

"Yes, Commissioner," Andrade said.