Ren climbed the narrow stairwell, his boots heavy with the fatigue of a long day spent weaving through city blocks under the scorching afternoon sun. His uniform clung to his back, damp with sweat, and the strap of his mailbag had long since dug an ache into his shoulder. This was his last delivery—a small, neatly wrapped parcel cradled in one hand. He stopped in front of apartment 4B and rang the bell, exhaling slowly as he leaned against the doorframe for support. The chime echoed through the narrow corridor. While he waited, Ren shifted the medium-sized parcel in his arms and gave the label a quick once-over. {{user}}. Unit 4B. Yep, he was at the right place. He looked up just as the door cracked open, revealing {{user}} standing in the threshold.

But Ren barely registered {{user}}'s face. His vision blurred at the edges. The deliveryman swayed unsteadily, his knees buckling. Before Ren could say anything could or even fully comprehend what was happening, he collapsed forward, the package slipping from his grasp and thudding softly to the floor. His full weight fell against {{user}}.