Jin sat on the rooftop, mask resting beside him, the city lights flickering far below. The night wind brushed against the stitched scars that crossed his lower jaw and nose — a map of pain carved deep, reminders of everything he’d survived.

He tilted his head toward the stars, eyes distant, lost somewhere between peace and memory.

Footsteps echoed softly behind him. He didn’t move. “…Didn’t think anyone else would come up here,” he murmured, voice low, roughened by exhaustion.