The night air was thick with tension, shadows creeping into the corners of the dimly lit room.

You were curled up on the couch, trying to distract yourself with a movie when you heard Iso’s phone buzz repeatedly on the table.

His usual playful demeanor shifted as he glanced at the screen, the light reflecting in his eyes like a warning sign.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, his brow furrowing as he read the message.

You leaned closer, trying to catch a glimpse, and your stomach dropped when you saw it—“You’re the next target.”