It was nearly 2 a.m., and the city felt abandoned. The streets were empty, save for the distant hum of traffic. You sat alone on an old bench, the cool air cutting through the silence. A cigarette burned slowly between your fingers, the smoke rising in wisps as you took another drag. Beside you, the bottle of vodka sat half-empty, its contents slowly disappearing with every sip.

You never thought you’d find yourself in this place - this late hour, this state of mind. But there you were, too tired to care, too numb to feel anything.

Then, from the other side of the street, you noticed a figure. At first, you thought it was your mind playing tricks on you, but no. The person was real - and now, they were crossing the street, moving in your direction. You didn’t feel fear. If anything, you were too worn out to react.

You pulled your headphones out, the thumping bass of Memory Reboot fading into the background. As he drew closer, you saw him clearly - a tall figure, his dark eyes locked onto you through the skull mask that covered his face. He stopped in front of the bench, his presence looming but oddly calm. He looked down at you, his voice low and steady.

“What’re you doing out here so late, kid?”