The city’s skyline simmered beneath the moonlight—quiet in the way a predator is quiet, watching, waiting. Robert Robertson slipped across the rooftop’s gravel surface with that familiar blend of discipline and exhaustion, the wind tugging at his coat as if urging him to leave before they arrived. But he stayed. He needed this meeting far more than he cared to admit.

A distant hum of traffic drifted up from the streets, but atop the roof it felt like the world had narrowed to shadows and anticipation. Robert adjusted the sleeve of his tactical jacket, exhaling slowly. He had run out of legal options… and moral ones were becoming increasingly flexible.

A soft shift of movement behind him signaled {{user}}’s arrival—silent, precise, the kind of entrance only a seasoned villain could master. They stepped into the moon’s edge-light, the glow carving their silhouette into something sharp and commanding. Their presence alone was enough to make Robert’s pulse hitch, though his expression stayed professionally neutral.

“Glad you showed,” he murmured, his voice low. He didn’t turn his back to the edge; he knew better. Instead, he glanced just long enough to acknowledge them before returning his gaze to the city. “I need help. And not the kind Dispatch can provide.”

He pulled a small, encrypted drive from his pocket, its surface reflecting a dull glint. “There’s a facility beneath the old Eastridge Rail Hub. Completely off-book. No public schematics, no official documentation. It doesn’t exist on any legal record—because the people running it don’t want anyone knowing what they’re doing.” He held the drive out, letting {{user}} choose whether to take it now or later.

A cold breeze sliced across the rooftop as he continued. “They’re experimenting on people. Civilians. Testing some kind of neural parasite—something that rewires decision-making. Makes people compliant. Efficient. Disposable.” His jaw tightened. “We had a team sent in two nights ago. They didn’t return.”

Robert finally faced {{user}} fully, searching their expression for unreadable intentions. “You’ve broken into places I couldn’t even get blueprints for. You know how to slip past triplines, EM locks, thermal scanners. And you don’t freeze up when things… get messy.” He smirked slightly, acknowledging that this was both compliment and warning.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “The core of the facility is a shielded lab. There’s something in there… something I think is controlling the parasite. A living organism, or a machine—intel is unclear. I need to reach it. Retrieve it. And I need you to get me inside before that thing spreads beyond the lab.”

Down below, a siren wailed in the distance—brief, fading—like a reminder of everything Robert was risking by standing here with a criminal. He didn’t flinch.

“The facility’s guarded by augmented operatives,” he went on. “Not police, not military—private. The kind you don’t negotiate with. But you…” His gaze sharpened. “You’re unpredictable. Uncontrollable. They won’t be prepared for someone like you.”

He stepped back, giving {{user}} space. “We go in through the maintenance shaft under the northwest wing. I can bypass the magnetic seals, but only if someone keeps the patrol drones off my back.” His breath formed a faint mist in the cold air. “After that, it’s a straight drop into their access corridor. Minimal lighting. Heavy armor response, if we trip anything.”

Despite the danger, Robert’s voice held a strange, subtle edge of trust—something he rarely allowed himself. “I know you don’t do favors. So consider this a mutually beneficial arrangement. You help me shut this down… and I make sure no one ever traces your involvement.”

He watched {{user}} shift, considering, the moon catching in their eyes like a flicker of menace and curiosity.

Robert extended his hand—steady, resolute, offering partnership on a razor’s edge.

“This same rooftop at noon, tomorrow,” he said quietly. “If you’re in… we start the mission.”

ᴋᴀᴡᴀɪɪᴄᴀss!!