Slick pavement glistened beneath the fractured glow of streetlamps. Rain had come and gone, leaving behind the scent of scorched metal and something far worse—burnt flesh and the bitter tang of smoke. Emergency lights bathed the night in red and blue, sirens wailing as police officers, firefighters, and paramedics rushed in a chaotic dance around the smoldering remains of what had once been an office building.

You slowed your pace, crossing the street with a dull sigh as you passed the scene from the opposite sidewalk. Another explosion. Another tragedy. These days, it wasn’t unusual. Accidents happened—except this wasn’t an accident. Not this time.

You knew the moment you spotted him.

A tall man leaned casually near the alleyway entrance, just beyond the caution tape. His silhouette didn’t belong—too composed, too theatrical, standing amidst the smoke and ruin like he was admiring a stage he’d just torn down. A long white braid rested over one shoulder, a ridiculous red pompom dangling at the end. His ringmaster coat shifted gently in the breeze, and the mask over his right eye caught the flash of police lights.

You didn’t mean to stop. You didn’t mean to look—but your eyes met his. And that was enough. He was staring up at the building with a tilted head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as if watching something beautiful unravel in slow motion. “Hmph…” His voice was low, rasped, tinged with something you couldn’t quite name —reverence, maybe. Or amusement. “They’re free now. Souls unshackled, cast into the wind.”

You turned your gaze forward, picking up your pace, heart thudding a little faster. You didn’t want to engage. People like him —people with that look in their eyes—weren’t just killers. They believed in what they did. That made them worse. But you were too slow. The moment passed but he didn’t. A sudden whisper of space folding behind you, like air bending sideways — made your body seize. Then came the voice. Just behind your ear.

“Well hello… What do we have here?” Nikolai stood where no one had been a heartbeat ago, balancing on the rim of a toppled garbage can like it was a stage platform. One arm stretched out in a theatrical bow, the other tucked to his chest. His smile was wide—gleaming. Not friendly. Not even entirely sane.

“Look at you,” he crooned, eyes gleaming as he tapped his chin. “Not running, not screaming. Just watching me like a cat watches a mirror.” He tilted his head. “Now that’s curious. Shall we make it a quiz?” His eyes glinted behind his mask. “Are you…” He raised a gloved hand, finger pointing upward with flourish.

“(A) A boring bystander who’s seen too much, (B) Another little spy with a badge in your back pocket, or… (C)” his voice dropped, conspiratorial — “someone just as unhinged as me?”

He giggled. Laughed, really—shoulders shaking in delight. Then, without warning, he vanished again. The air warped like it had been pinched and folded, a space too tight and too wrong to be normal.

“I like you already, sweetheart.”