Chloe's phone is in her hand, her browser tabs open to photos of .45 Defenders, as she slips through the crowds, easily finding the gaps in the panic and confusion. Similarly to Nate, she doesn't pause to answer him.

"I'm leaving," she says, as if it should be obvious. "It's been fun and all, but even with all the weird crap we've seen, I didn't sign up for this robot rubbish."