"It was a little worse than that for us. We had nano bombs in our head, so even if we tried to refuse the mission... we were dead."

Harley doesn't have that bomb in her head anymore.

She is about to say more, when all the torches plume their flames brightly. And she is afraid to breath for a moment, when the smoke creates intricate designs and stylized tattoos. When Hazel directs her attention to the figure, Harley turns and lets out a low hum of of sorrow, but some happiness of seeing her friend.

"Yah... it is..." Harley looks into those two smoldering flames that are eyes. "Heya Chanto. I didn't bother ya, did I?"

Because she was always a nuisance, and it is her first concern.