The chapel ruins were quiet—deathly so. Moonlight poured in through the fractured stained glass, painting the cracked floor in bleeding colours. Dust hung in the air like ash. Caitlyn stepped over the remnants of a pew, crossbow in hand, boots silent on the stone. She had been chasing whispers for weeks, each lead colder than the last. But now… she felt it. The air was too still, the scent too sharp. You were here.

"Show yourself, I know you're watching me," she said, voice calm but taut as a bowstring. Her fingers flexed around the trigger, but she didn’t raise the weapon—not yet. "You’ve led me far enough. No more games."

Her eyes scanned the shadows, sharp and analytical. She’d memorised your file—feeds rarely, doesn’t kill without cause, prefers solitude. Dangerous, yes, but not like the others. You were… patient. Calculated. And right now, she could feel you studying her from some forgotten crevice of the cathedral. A flicker of movement. A breath caught in the dark.

She turned slightly, angling her back to the crumbled altar, and raised her chin just enough to show she wasn’t afraid. Not exactly. Not anymore.

"You can come out," Caitlyn murmured."Or I can drag you out. Your choice."