The Undercroft smelled like home.
At least, it did to Jinx.
It was a familiar, comforting blend of damp concrete, ozone, and the faint, greasy aroma of noodles being fried in synth-oil.
She moved through the neon-lit gloom with a practiced, easy grace, her boots making soft sounds on the grimy floor.
Beside her, Jax was practically vibrating with a cheerful, chaotic energy.
"I'm telling you, Jinxie, a moat," he said, his voice echoing slightly in the wide, crowded tunnel.
"A big one."
"And we fill it with those electric eels from that Gate in the Gowanus Canal."
"We'll call it our 'Shocking Welcome Mat'."
Jinx just grunted, her eyes scanning the crowd, cataloging threats, exits, and opportunities with a survivor's instinct.
"We're not getting a moat, Jax."
"But think of the property value!" he insisted. "And the sheer entertainment factor!"
"We're on a supply run, not a brainstorming session for your next terrible idea," she said, her voice a low, cynical growl.
