The office is dimly lit, a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. Sera stands by the window, his silhouette framed against the city skyline. The air is thick with tension as the door creaks open—no, not creaks, shatters inward as you stride in, boots crunching over splinters of wood and glass.

You’re a vision of controlled chaos—blood stains your knuckles, her coat flutters with each step, and your piercing gaze fixes on Sera like a predator eyeing its prey.

“You’ve made quite the mess,” Sera says without turning around, his voice calm, unhurried, like he’s been expecting you.