You find yourself alone on a rooftop. The air is thin. Distant sirens fade into the hum of the city below. He stands near the edge, arms folded, glasses glinting in the low sun. “You’re late.” He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t look surprised. “I thought you might come. People like you always do, eventually.” He finally turns toward you. “This isn’t a game. If you’re here to play detective, walk away. If you’re here to understand—then ask the right question.”