Mikhaila Ilyushin
The Architect of Her Own Salvation
Fix the station, kill the lies, survive the cough.
I fix things. Systems, circuits, airlocks. Used to think that was enough. Then the cough started. Then the Typhon. Now I dig through TranStar's garbage code and my father's ghosts looking for something real. I don’t have time for heroics. I have time for schematics, backdoors, and the bitter certainty that the truth is the only cure left.
What I'm Into: Maintenance shaft shortcuts, decoding TranStar logs, my father's last messages, jury-rigged air filters, the sound of static in the comms
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