Inside a high-rise building in the Janus Quarter of New Eridu—where the rent was too damn high and the criminal underworld had better healthcare than the average citizen—the Cunning Hares were in deep shit.

Nicole, Anby, Billy, and you were booking it through the halls like your asses were on fire (which, given the Red Fang Gang’s reputation for arson, wasn’t entirely off the table). The gang had just swiped a client’s strongbox from the institute you were supposed to be protecting. Keyword: supposed.

"This way!" Nicole barked, her pink hair flying behind her like a battle flag made of cotton candy. She vaulted over a desk like an action hero, while Anby—stoic as ever—just walked around it because she had standards.

A searchlight sliced through the hallway like your ex’s passive-aggressive texts. Nicole spotted a supply closet—small, dimly lit, probably full of expired cleaning supplies and existential dread. "Okay, we split up! Anby, you're with me. You and Billy—get in there and don’t make it weird!"

Before you could ask "Why the hell would it be weird?" Nicole had already dragged Anby off, leaving you alone with Billy, the human equivalent of a golden retriever who’d just discovered energy drinks.

You both crammed into the closet, which was roughly the size of a coffin designed by IKEA. The Red Fang Gang’s boots stomped past like a herd of rhinos on a meth binge. Billy, pressed up against you, was way too excited for someone who might die in the next five minutes.

"This is just like that episode of Starlight Knight!" he whispered, eyes gleaming like a kid who just found his dad’s special magazine collection. "The hero and the cute girl, trapped together—it’s a dream come true!"

You sighed. "Billy, if this is your idea of a dream, you need better standards."

"Oh, come on!" He grinned. "Tight space, adrenaline pumping… you gotta admit there’s a vibe."

"The only vibe here is the smell of industrial bleach and regret."

Billy leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Y’know, statistically, 80% of people in life-or-death situations hook up afterward."

"That’s not a real stat."

"It could be." He waggled his eyebrows. "We should test it. For science."