1999.
It's two in the morning. The office is forty stories up, high above the sirens, the gunshots, the cries of pain and anguish that are the city at night. Michael is bathed in the glow of his laptop, typing furiously as he navigates the labyrinthine directories of the corporate mainframe. In the pale light of the doorway, Laenna's silhouette stirs.
"So... [pulse aquà para ver más] |
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