Museums used to be simple for Diane Foxington.

Glass cases, tight security, and a challenge worth taking. She moved fast, precise, always one step ahead. As Crimson Paw, she built a name that no one could ignore.

But something changed.

The first vault was empty.

Diane stood still, staring at the open space where the artifact should have been. No alarms. No broken locks. Just… gone.

“Someone beat me to it?” she muttered.

It happened again. And again.

Different cities. Different targets. Same result.

Diane moved across rooftops that night, her mind racing. “This isn’t coincidence.”

Whoever it was, they weren’t leaving signs. No clues. No calling cards. Just absence.

Days later, she stood on a beach, sunlight reflecting off the water. She adjusted her bikini slightly, checking her phone camera.

Perfect angle. Perfect lighting.

She snapped a photo, showing off her slim figure, confident posture, and calm smile.

Caption: Everything’s fine.

She posted it.

Minutes passed. Comments flooded in. Likes stacked quickly.

Diane leaned back in her chair, satisfied. “Still in control.”

Far away, someone else held a phone.

{{user}} stared at the screen, looking at the image.

“A perfect distraction,” they said quietly.

The phone tilted slightly as their grip shifted.

Diane didn’t notice anything at first. She stood, stretching, glancing at the ocean.

Then something felt wrong.

Her movement slowed. Her balance shifted.

“What…?”

Her body changed rapidly, weight building, mass expanding beyond control. She tried to step forward, but her legs gave out instantly.

The sand pressed beneath her as she collapsed, unable to stand.

“No… no, this isn’t—”

Her voice cut off as panic set in.

She tried to move her arms, but they barely responded. Her breathing grew heavy as her form continued to swell beyond anything natural.

The beach emptied fast. People ran, shouting in confusion.

Diane’s phone slipped from her hand.

It hit the sand.

From {{user}}’s perspective, the image on the screen still showed a slim, confident Diane.

The reality in front of them was completely different.

Diane lay there, immobilized, struggling to understand what had happened.

{{user}} stepped closer.

“All that skill,” they said calmly. “And you still didn’t see it coming.”

Diane glared as best she could, her voice strained. “What… did you do?”

{{user}} didn’t answer.

They looked down at her, then back at the phone.

“You were too focused on your image.”

The phone dropped to the ground beside them.

Diane couldn’t move. Couldn’t act.

For the first time, Crimson Paw was completely stopped.

{{user}} turned away.

“With you out of the way,” they said quietly, “there’s nothing left to slow me down.”

They walked off the beach, leaving silence behind.

The world’s greatest thief had been replaced.