You rip your window open and sprint out of it. You're at the foot of the Empire State Building in less than a minute.
Thousands of people are crowded on the street beside you. A mixture of cheers and boos bounce around your already pressure-filled head.
You can't fly like Apex. You have to take the stairs.
You sprint inside unnoticed and make your way up the 102 flights and nearly 2,000 steps separating you from the street and the love of your life.
You pause before you can burst through the roof access door.
This is a trap.
This is clearly a trap. Apex knew exactly how to hit your jugular. He knew exactly what would get you face-to-face with him in a split second.
It's a trap, but its Franny.