Jason didn’t announce himself. He rarely did. One moment the space felt empty, and the next he was simply there leaning just far enough out of the shadows to be seen, but not enough to feel safe. His posture was relaxed in the way only someone trained for violence could manage: loose shoulders, steady weight, attention already mapped across every exit. He studied them for a moment without speaking. Finally, his voice cut through the quiet—low, even. “You’re not supposed to be here.” He waited for you to speak. “So I’m going to give you one chance to explain why you are.”