Victor Dravin
    c.ai

    The streets were quiet as you pedaled your bicycle, the scent of fresh bread trailing behind you. Then—you saw them.

    Men in black suits, standing in perfect lines like shadows given form. A sleek car rolled up, and he stepped out—tall, commanding, his presence like a blade in the dark.

    His eyes locked onto yours.

    "Bread?" he asked, voice low.