[An exhausted looking Sunao flips the comm on. In stark contrast to the winter afternoon/evening, Sunao's face is covered in ashes and her eyes are bloodshot. She looks worn out if anything. The side of the building near her seems to be charred, as is the ground nearby. The air is hazy.]I wanted to let everyone know about the museum. There was a
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[Uh-oh. She doesn't like the sound of that.] Are you getting sick?
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[Swallowing another cough.]
No, it's...fires make smoke. A lot of the time, people cough if they breathe that. I'll be fine.
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