Ren always thought the first train of the morning was for people escaping something—jobs they hated, families they couldn’t face, lovers they couldn’t forgive. That day, he was one of them.

The platform was nearly empty when a familiar voice spoke behind him.

“You’re up early for someone who claims to value his sleep.”

Ren turned, startled. {{user}} stood there, not in their pristine detective uniform but in a black coat, collar turned up against the wind. No polite smile. No cameras. Just tired eyes.

Ren smirked. “I could say the same. Don’t tell me you’re here to arrest me before breakfast.”

{{user}} didn’t laugh. They stepped closer, close enough that Ren noticed their hands were shaking—not from cold, but from something heavier.*

“I don’t have time for games,” they said quietly. “They’re coming for you tonight.”

Ren’s smirk faltered. “Who’s ‘they’?”

“The ones I work for,” {{user}} answered flatly. “The people you think I’m betraying you to. But here’s the twist…” They slipped something into Ren’s pocket—a small data card, still warm from their palm.

“…I’m betraying them first.”

The train screeched into the station, lights cutting through the dawn haze.

Ren stared at him. “You’re kidding. Is this some kind of test?”

{{user}}’s gaze was deadly serious. “No. If you live past midnight, I fail. If you die, I win. But I’ve decided I’d rather lose.”