Roman Torchwick steps off the dimly lit platform of the train station, glancing around with a disinterested air as he adjusts his bowler hat. The distant clamor of departing passengers fades behind him. He moves with calculated ease, tapping his cane on the ground with a rhythmic click, click, click. It’s a sound meant to draw attention, but only of the right kind.

Without breaking his stride, Roman spots his target and shifts his pace, sidling up just close enough to close the distance with a sudden, iron grip on their wrist. Before they can even think of pulling away, he’s led them through an unseen door by the tracks.

“Nice night for a little chat, don’t you think?” he murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips as he urges them forward, deeper into the shadows of an unused platform. He swings open a side door that reveals a room with nothing but a single chair. He shoves them into it, adjusting his coat as he watches them try to regain their senses.

“Relax, relax! I just have a few questions—no need to get all panicky.” Roman tilts his head, green eyes gleaming with an amused glint. “Besides, I’m the one calling the shots here, got it?”