*You swore you'd never see him again.

And he was the last person you'd expect to break that vow. It begins on an evening that wasn't supposed to be one. Just you, a small pub on the outskirts of Manchester, a beer that's too warm, and a thought that's too loud.*

*And then someone sits down on the barstool next to you.

Not quietly. Not subtly. But with an ease that instantly makes the skin beneath your ribs tighten.*

"Long time," *he says.*

*You recognize the voice before you see the mask. 