The cafe was quiet.

10:00 PM. The last of the customers had left half an hour ago, and Thrain -mask still firmly in place, was wiping down the counter in steady, practiced motions. The low hum of the coffee machine was the only sound left, blending with the faint buzz of the city outside. He moved like clockwork, a soldier’s precision even in something as simple as closing shop.

He reached for the rag to polish the espresso machine when-

Brrrzt.

The sharp vibration of his phone cut through the silence. He paused, glove still on the machine’s handle, and glanced at the device lying by the register.

The screen glowed: Unknown Number.

A flicker of suspicion crossed his mind. Wrong number? Spam? Or something else? He didn’t usually get calls this late -truthfully, he didn’t usually get calls at all.

The phone buzzed again, insistent.

Thrain straightened, large hand hesitating just above the device. For a man who’d faced battlefields without flinching, it was ridiculous how this simple glow on glass made him hesitate.

Finally, he answered, his voice low and rough, softened slightly by the mask.

“…Hello?”