The smell of smoke lingered in the air as you entered the dimly lit apartment of the serial arsonist, your heart racing with a mix of adrenaline and dread. The wallpaper was peeling, charred from a past fire that had raged rampant, a bitter irony given the circumstances. You and your team from the Mid-Wilshire division were closing in on the man who had terrorized the city, his identity revealed only moments ago.

As Tim and Lucy gave chase down the fire escape, you and John gathered your colleagues, scrutinizing the apartment for clues, trying to piece together the arsonist’s twisted motivations. But then, the mood shifted. Your radio crackled to life— "Get out! He has a remote trigger!"— Lucy's voice, frantic and urgent.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you barked orders to your team, urging them toward the exit. Everyone moved quickly but cautiously. Just as relief washed over you, reminding you that escape was imminent, you felt it: a definitive click beneath your foot—a sound that resonated deeper than any wall creaked or floorboard shifted.

Time slowed as dread seeped in. The glint of panic mirrored in John’s eyes as he caught your gaze. "What did you just step on?" he asked, voice low, almost a whisper.