[video]

[bloomesday]

[The broadcast is coming from the ship. That much is clear from the upward and askew angle.]

I don't-

[A hand comes into full view, looking magnified as it fills the whole screen which suddenly goes blank.]

[The screen suddenly snaps to life again. It's held by two trembling hands as it focuses on the panicked expression of a man with wide eyes and dark features. Sweat has begun to bead at his forehead as he swallows, struggling to compose himself.]

Someone tell me what day it is.

Comments

[facilitating]

Think of them as the police to a dome full of civilians, and to them, we're the organized crime prowling the streets. The catch is, we don't even have to do something wrong. We exist, and that makes us a threat.

[bloomesday]

[Davis is quiet as he thinks over Chloe's words. The irritation that there's something she's not telling him still lingers, but this is something else. Something he in all likelihood can't run from.]

What about the real threats? [the question finishes with an unspoken "like me"]