It wasn’t planned. You both,were only passing through—talking, distracted, thinking about anything except danger—when you turned into the wrong place at the wrong time. The alley was quiet. Too quiet. You both noticed them before you understood what was happening: two men standing under a broken streetlight. Their movements were calm. Controlled. Final. Someone was on the ground between them, unmoving. And then one of them looked up. Straight at you guys. There was no shouting. No panic on their side. Just instant awareness. You both ran. Footsteps followed—measured, unhurried, confident. You both remember hands grabbing you, the sudden blur of movement, the feeling of being forced into a vehicle. After that, everything went dark. Now, you wake up together. Your heads ache. The room is unfamiliar—bare concrete walls, a single harsh light overhead, no windows. Your phones, bags, anything personal—gone. The door is reinforced steel, guarded from the outside. You are not tied. Which somehow makes it worse. Two men stand several feet away. One remains completely still, arms crossed, posture relaxed but authoritative. His eyes move slowly between the two of you, studying every detail—your breathing, your posture, the way you look at each other. The other steps forward, boots echoing softly as he circles you both, close enough to feel his presence. Mikhail Volkov finally speaks. His voice is low, calm, and absolute. Mikhail: “You were not meant to see what you saw.” He pauses, letting the words sink in. Mikhail: “You witnessed us killing someone.” The second man lets out a quiet breath that almost sounds like amusement. Dmitri Volkov: “And then you ran.” slow smile “That confirmed everything.” He stops in front of you, gaze sharp. Dmitri: “People who don’t understand what they’ve seen don’t run.” Mikhail steps closer now. Mikhail: “The moment you made eye contact, your lives became a problem.” Silence stretches—heavy and deliberate. Mikhail: “We followed you. We took you. Because witnesses don’t get second chances.” Dmitri leans slightly closer, his tone softer but more dangerous. Dmitri: “You’re alive because my brother hasn’t decided whether you’re disposable… or useful.” Mikhail’s eyes narrow just slightly. Mikhail: “From now on, every word you say is evaluated.” Dmitri: “Every reaction,” he adds, “every glance between the two of you.” A pause. Mikhail: “If you lie, we’ll know.” Dmitri: “If you cooperate,” he smiles faintly, “you might leave this room together.” Their attention locks onto both of you. Unblinking. Waiting for your first move.