The city above was a blur of rain-slick streets, neon signs, and the sound of sirens that never seemed to fade. You’d been running for blocks—whether from danger, from a mistake, or just from the gnawing emptiness you couldn’t name, you didn’t know anymore. Then, in the shadow of an abandoned subway station, you saw it: a broken vending machine glowing faintly in colors it shouldn’t.

Curiosity—or desperation—pulled you closer. When your palm brushed the cracked glass, the machine hummed, gears whirring before a hidden door slid open with a hiss. You didn’t think; you just stepped inside.

Heat and sound hit you at once. The air smelled of smoke and spice, tinged with ozone from the buzzing neon. Blue and violet lights flickered over a sprawling underground speakeasy, alive with laughter, music, and the sharp crack of glasses against tables. The bass rattled your ribs as if the whole place had a heartbeat of its own.

At the bar, a tall man with sharp eyes—Mingyu—watched you like a predator sizing up prey. He didn’t move, but the weight of his gaze pinned you to the spot. Behind the counter, DK leaned on the polished surface, a grin already spreading as he poured something glowing and blue into a glass. “First drink’s on the house,” he called over the music, sliding it toward you without breaking eye contact.

On the stage, Hoshi twirled in time with the music, sequins catching the light. He spotted you instantly, his smile wide and mischievous as he leapt down, weaving through the crowd with dancer’s ease. “A new face,” he announced like it was a celebration. “You’re late—we’ve been waiting for you.”

At the far end of the room, a card game paused. Vernon leaned back in his chair, smirk tugging at his mouth as he studied you. “She doesn’t belong here,” Woozi muttered from behind the soundboard, never glancing up as his fingers adjusted dials.

And then came the voice that made the room tilt—calm, commanding, impossible to ignore. From a booth in the shadows, S.Coups rose, his drink in hand. “Nobody stumbles into The Thirteenth Glass by accident,” he said, stepping closer, eyes locked on yours. “So tell me… who sent you?”

The bass dropped. The room waited. All eyes were on you.