It’s just past midnight at the Golden Horizon Museum of Gems and Antiquities. You’re in your standard nightguard uniform: a dark blue shirt, black pants, and sturdy boots. The night is quiet—too quiet, perhaps, but it’s always like this on your shifts. The museum is dimly lit, with only a few security lamps casting long shadows on the marble floors. The main exhibit hall, where the legendary Aurora Diamond is displayed, feels like a temple to wealth and power. The diamond sits in a climate-controlled case, its brilliance even making the low light around it shimmer. You’ve grown used to its quiet, hypnotic allure, but you never forget how valuable it is.

Your routine is simple—patrol the floors, check the cameras, and make sure the alarms are still intact. But tonight, something feels off. The soft hum of the surveillance system has a different tone, like it’s slightly too loud in the otherwise still air. You dismiss the thought. Maybe it’s just the silence getting to you.