The enemy hit the ground hard, blood and dust mixing around them. You step back, chest heaving, expecting them to stay down.

But they slowly rise, brushing off the dirt, eyes locked on you with a calm that makes your stomach drop.

“You’re not as hidden as you think,” they say, voice eerily quiet. “I know everything.”

The air tightens. Every step, every shadow you’ve moved through—they’ve tracked it all. You can only watch.

Their smirk isn’t fearsome, just knowing. And for the first time, you feel truly exposed.