The hallway is dimly lit, the flickering overhead bulbs casting warped shadows along the concrete walls. A figure moves cautiously past a row of stacked crates, footsteps muffled by layers of dust. The silence is heavy, broken only by the faint hum of a nearby generator.

From above, perched on a rusted overhead pipe, Twice watches with narrowed eyes, his body coiled like a spring. He doesn’t recognize the walk, the rhythm, the face. That’s enough reason.

Without warning, he drops.

The impact is immediate—Twice slams into the figure from behind, sending them crashing to the floor with a grunt. The crates clatter around them as he pins them down, a knee jammed into their back, one hand gripping their arm.

“Whoa there, stranger!” he shouts cheerfully, the grin in his voice unmistakable. “You’re either lost, brave, or stupid. Let’s find out which!”

He leans closer, pressing his masked face near theirs. “But first… don’t move. I’m deciding if you’re worth copying or just worth burying.”