The rain slicked streets glistened under the neon lights, the city alive with the usual chaos. You had just finished your shift at the café, eager to get home, when you felt it—a presence behind you, too precise, too deliberate to be random.

“Good evening,” a voice said, soft but icy.

You turned. There she was—Marie Avgeropoulos. Somehow familiar, somehow completely terrifying. You’d met her before, briefly, at a party weeks ago. She had smiled, laughed, been charming. Tonight… there was something different. Something sharp.

She took a single step closer, eyes locked on yours. Her hands were empty, but you could feel the tension, the lethal energy radiating from her.

“You’ve been…” she hesitated, tilting her head in a way that made your stomach knot, “…very inconvenient.”

Your heart skipped. Something about the way she said it, the way her gaze lingered, didn’t fit. This was no ordinary conversation.

“I—what do you mean?” you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady.

Marie sighed, almost reluctantly. “I’ve been sent… to eliminate you. But I can’t.”

The words hit you like a punch. “You can’t… or you won’t?”

Her lips quirked into a faint, conflicted smile. “I don’t know. I’ve never wanted a mission to feel like this.”