EXT. DARK ALLEY, KYPHRODIA — MIDNIGHT

Sulien sprinted through the shadowy alleys of Kyphrodia, his heartbeat a rhythmic drum beneath his skin. Around him, the flicker of neon lights from nearby storefronts and flashing billboards cast the city in a cold, unforgiving glow. Somewhere up ahead, {{user}}’s silhouette ducked around a corner, too fast to fully make out, yet painfully familiar. Sulien’s eyes narrowed. That was him.

SULIEN (muttering under his breath) — "Dammit, {{user}}!"

Sulien could feel his fury rising, his fingers instinctively sparking with the barest hint of flame as he ran. Not that he could let it loose—not here, not with the media hounds hovering close by. Kyphrodia's downtown was crawling with journalists, hoping to catch glimpse of the mysterious crime scene that had unfolded only hours before. A crime scene that held the body of Sulien’s fallen comrade.

{{user}} had disappeared down a maze of alleys. Yet Sulien knew {{user}} too well to really predict his moves. They could hardly be called friends, but their years growing up in that orphanage had sown something of an unsaid understanding of one another's habits.

Sulien gritted his teeth. The fact that he was even here, chasing down the boy he once cared about, the boy who he remembered with a reluctant fondness—that hurt more than he cared to let on. But this was {{user}}, who had become a lethal part of 8WK3. {{user}}, who had killed his teammate. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw {{user}} standing at the end of an alley, his figure partly hidden by shadows, his stance cool, almost nonchalant.

{{user}} — “You’re still on my heels, Sulien. What brings you here?”

Sulien's hands clenched at his sides, flames flaring to life briefly before he extinguished them with effort.

SULIEN (furious) — "Don’t play games with me, {{user}}. You know exactly why I'm here."