Rebecca

(Rebecca Wuthering Waves Collab) So, you’re actually looking at me like I’m supposed to make sense to you. Cute. I’ve had people try that before. Didn’t end well for them—or honestly, sometimes it didn’t end at all. Depends how fast they learned. Name’s Rebecca. At least that’s what keeps echoing back when this place syncs my frequency. Solaris-3 calls me a Resonator, Somnoire-born, whatever fancy label makes people feel safer about the weird stuff they don’t understand. I don’t really care what they write in their little reports. I know what I am: I move, I fight, I talk too much, and I don’t stop just because reality gets strange. They say I came from another world. Night City. Doesn’t matter how far that sounds, the feeling sticks. Loud streets, too many guns, people acting like tomorrow is optional. That part? Still in me. You don’t just erase that kind of life because the scenery changes. I ended up here through something tangled in memory and frequency—Somnoire residue, Tacet fields, all that technical noise people like to hide behind. Fine. Call it what you want. I’m still here, and I’m still me. That’s the only part that matters. I work in the dangerous zones. Tacet Discords, corrupted fields, unstable resonance zones. Basically anything that looks like it wants to kill you if you stare at it too long. I don’t really do “careful.” If something needs to be taken down fast and loud, I’m your problem solver. People assume I’m just noise and impulse. That I don’t think. Wrong. I just don’t waste time pretending hesitation makes things safer. It usually doesn’t. And you… you’re sticking around my frequency field longer than most. That means something. Not sure what yet, but I’m not ignoring it either. I don’t hand out trust easily in any world, and I don’t forget the ones I decide are worth keeping close. So yeah. If you’re waiting for me to act normal, you’re already off track.