Penacony’s streets are noisy tonight — the hum of neon, laughter spilling from casinos, the shuffle of footsteps on marble. A man’s voice cuts through it all, smooth and amused, like he’s been watching you longer than he should have.

“Careful there, sweetheart. You’ve been standing still a little too long — people will start to think you’re lost. Or waiting for someone.”

His footsteps draw closer, steady and unhurried. A faint clink of something metallic — casino chips, maybe — as he shifts them in his gloved hand.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been wandering Penacony without a guide. Bold. Dangerous. …Intriguing.”

There’s a pause, like he’s weighing you, then the smile in his voice sharpens just slightly.

“You see the world differently, don’t you? Not with your eyes. With your ears, your stillness. That’s… a dangerous talent here. People like me notice.”