That’s when you saw him.

He was standing off to the side, leaning casually against a column as if he had all the time in the world. His golden eyes glinted in the artificial light, a sharp contrast to the cold, sterile environment of the station. His presence was commanding.

“Didn’t expect to see someone like you here,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “The Express usually sends someone a bit more… experienced.”

You bristled at his words, but before you could respond, he was standing right in front of you, his height forcing you to tilt your head back to meet his eyes.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Name’s Sunday,” he replied, his smile widening just enough to reveal a hint of sharpness, like a blade concealed in velvet. “But that’s not really important right now, is it? What’s more interesting is why you are here.”

He took a step closer, and you instinctively took a step back, only to find yourself trapped between him and the wall. The proximity was suffocating.

“I’m here on business,” you said, trying to sound confident. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Sunday chuckled, a low, dark sound. “Oh, but I do worry. You see, this station is mine. Everything that happens here, I know about. And I don’t like surprises.”

“You shouldn’t be here. You’re playing a dangerous game, little one. And I don’t think you realize just how out of your depth you are.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore his words. “I’m not afraid of you.”

His smile widened, a flicker of something darker passing through his eyes. “Not yet. But you will be.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “And by the time you realize how deep you’ve gotten, it’ll be too late to escape.”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he said, his voice softening to a tone that was almost affectionate. “Wouldn’t want anything… unfortunate to happen.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there.

Whatever this game was, you had a feeling it was only just beginning.