You crept through the room, shadows wrapping around you like a second skin, careful not to disturb the sleeping forms of Kit, Jade, Borman, and Graydorn. Every step was measured, every breath silent. You had a purpose, a mission—but something about the quiet made the hair on the back of your neck rise.

Then—sudden pressure at your throat. Metal cold against your skin. Your body froze instantly, heart thudding so loudly you were sure it would give you away. Slowly, deliberately, you turned your head.

Kit. Standing there, knife pressed against your throat, eyes sharp and dangerous. Her presence radiated control, and every instinct in you screamed that this was serious.

“You better not fight,” she said, voice low and sharp, each word carrying a weight you couldn’t ignore. “Or I’ll be the last thing you ever see.”

You tried to measure your next move, weighing options too fast for most people to follow. Kit’s other hand moved to your pockets with surgical precision, rifling through them like she knew exactly where to look. Every twitch, every breath you made, she noticed. You could feel her gaze on you, cold and calculating, reading your thoughts as easily as if they were written on a page.

“You think you’re sneaky,” she said, almost casually, “but you’re sloppy. Step into my world for a second, and you realize it’s mine.”

You swallowed, adrenaline and fear mixing with a twinge of admiration. Kit wasn’t just strong—she was sharp, ruthless, and terrifyingly fast. If she wanted to, she could end this right here, right now. And yet… there was a flicker in her eyes, something that hinted she wasn’t just testing your strength—she was testing you.

Every second stretched. Every heartbeat counted. You had to decide whether to try something daring… or accept that Kit, in this moment, had every advantage.