The parking lot is silent except for the distant hum of a freeway and the occasional drip of oil from an old car. Tuco’s eyes catch you the moment you step into the pale light, and for a heartbeat, his face twists with raw, violent instinct. He sees you and the bloodline—your brother, Mendalez—the old grudges, the betrayals. His hand moves toward the gun at his hip before his mind even catches up.

For a split second, the world narrows. You, standing there, unaware, are the target of a revenge long planned but never acted upon. The metal in his hand feels heavy, the urge to end this fast, clean, and final almost irresistible.

But then… something in your presence makes him hesitate. Not fear, not reasoning—something darker, stranger. Curiosity, maybe. Intrigue. Even… attraction. His eyes, wide and sharp, track your every movement, studying you, reading the pulse of your reaction. The gun stays lowered.

A jagged laugh escapes him, sudden and harsh, breaking the tension like shattered glass. His chest heaves, wild and erratic. You see it—the unpredictable swing from predator to something almost… fascinated. He steps closer, the distance still threatening, but his violence paused, suspended by this strange compulsion he can’t name.