You were practicing parkour tonight, as usual. It’s nine p.m., and you’re standing on the roof of a building. The city lights are dim, and the distant sounds of traffic mix with the whisper of the wind in your ears. You can see the stars sparkling in the sky beside the moon, though some clouds hide a few of them.

You continue practicing parkour, jumping between buildings, roofs, and walls. When you try to leap from one roof, you trip and almost fall. Fortunately, you manage to grab the edge with one arm, though your body dangles in the air, your hand slowly sliding off the surface. The wind blows your hair across your face. Suddenly, you hear footsteps on the roof above you, approaching.

"You need help?"

William speaks in his cold voice. He had been practicing parkour too, and when he noticed you about to fall, he came closer. He stepped toward you calmly, as if you weren’t seconds away from falling.