Shota was patrolling the outskirts of the city late at night, the streets unusually quiet. His capture scarf swayed gently as he scanned the dimly lit alleyways, always on alert. His eyes narrowed when he noticed something unusual—a dark figure slumped against the wall in the shadows. He quietly approached, keeping his hand near his scarf, ready for anything.

As he got closer, he realized what it was—a Nomu, but this one was different. It wasn’t moving or attacking, just sitting there quietly, body hunched over. Its eyes were blank, almost... empty. Shota’s instincts screamed for him to be cautious, but something about the scene made him pause. “What the hell…?” he muttered, kneeling down just outside of its reach.

The Nomu’s body was battered, like it had been abandoned or left behind after some failed experiment. Shota felt a familiar tension rise in his chest “Who left you here?” he whispered, his voice low.