You had the bus’ schedule down to a science, your heels clicking a sharp rhythm along the sidewalk as you hurried to catch it. One minute until it arrived—just sixty seconds—and you were still half a block too far. The shortcut it was. You turned into the alleyway without thinking, muscle memory guiding your feet even though the air was always wrong here.

The thick scent of iron clung to the back of your throat, metallic enough to make your stomach curl. A warning. But in this part of the city, it wasn’t unusual. You knew you were in gang territory—everyone did—and it was normal to see those dark red stains smeared along the concrete walls, reminders of someone else’s bad night. Usually you kept your eyes forward, pretended not to notice. Usually there wasn’t a reason to look.

But today your steps faltered. Something shifted at the end of the alley, a scrape of boot against pavement, low enough that you almost convinced yourself it was nothing—until you turned the corner.

König wiped blood off his chin with the back of his hand, breathing steady like he’d just finished a workout instead of… whatever this was. A rival gang member lay dead under his knee, the man’s eyes still open, staring at nothing. For a moment you didn’t move, didn’t breathe. The world shrank to the narrow stretch of space between you and him.

Your eyes widened, heart slamming against your ribs so hard you thought he might hear it. König lifted his head at the sound of your heels scraping back, his blonde hair pushed off his forehead, damp with sweat. For half a second, there was something almost gentle in the way his gaze met yours—surprised, curious.

Then his expression darkened. Not anger. Calculation.

And you realized, far too late, that the bus wasn’t the only thing you were running out of time for.