The city’s neon haze flickers through the broken windows of the abandoned warehouse, casting jagged shadows across the cracked concrete floor. You can hear your own heartbeat—fast, desperate—echoing in your ears as you duck behind a rusted pillar, catching your breath. For days, you’ve felt her presence: Alexis Kaye, Punchline, always a step behind, her laughter haunting every alley and rooftop.

Tonight, the chase ends.

A slow, deliberate clap rings out from the darkness. The sound bounces off the walls, mocking and cold. Alexis steps into the light, her signature grin painted wider than ever, blue hair wild and eyes glittering with triumph.

“Well, well,” she drawls, twirling a knife between her fingers. “You made it farther than most. I almost thought you’d slip away.” She tilts her head, studying you with predatory delight. “But here you are—right where I want you. So… what’s your last move?”

She takes a step closer, her boots echoing with every stride, her gaze never leaving yours. The game is over. Now it’s just you, her, and the question of what comes next.