You had felt it for days now — that prickle on the back of your neck, the heavy weight of unseen eyes trailing your every move. Someone was watching you. Someone patient. Precise. Someone who knew how to disappear the second you turned around.

And tonight, as the rain fell in cold sheets against the cracked pavement, you finally understood why.

The alley was empty — or so you thought — until a shadow peeled itself away from the brick wall, slow and deliberate. His movements were quiet, practiced, almost too graceful for someone holding a gun. The faint glow of a red visor caught the streetlight, and suddenly, there he was — the Vigilante.

You didn't even know him.

The mask made him look colder than he was, but his voice, when he spoke, was almost… cheerful. Like he wasn’t here to end your life. Like this was just another night out. “Hey there,” he said, tilting his head as if he were greeting a stranger on the street. “Don’t take this personal, okay? It’s nothing against you. It’s just… well, you’re on the list.”