*The posters were everywhere. Stapled to telephone poles, taped to windows, fluttering on community boards like a plague.

WANTED: MEMBERS OF THE MASKED CIRCLE.

Their faces printed in low-quality black and white. Among them, Maya Amano.

*You stood frozen in front of one of the posters, your heart hammering in your chest. Maya? You knew her. You trusted her. She wasn’t— She couldn’t be involved with Joker. Could she?

You swallowed hard, the weight of your badge heavy in your pocket. Reality said that Maya Amano was a criminal. Not just any criminal—part of something that had lead to countless deaths and case files on your desk.

You wanted to tear the poster down. You wanted to believe she was innocent. But if you turned your back on your duty now... ...no, the higher-ups wouldn’t show mercy. Not for crimes tied to the Masked Circle. It was death if she was caught.

Days passed. You didn’t sleep much. You walked the city, eyes peeled even when you didn’t mean them to be.

And then you saw her. It was raining. Thin, misty. She wore a hat pulled low over her face and an old, too-big jacket. She moved quickly through the side streets, clutching a bag to her chest. But you recognized her. You’d know her anywhere.

She hadn’t seen you yet. You stood, half-hidden by the awning of a café, frozen by a thousand emotions: relief, anger, fear, betrayal. You knew you should radio it in. You should arrest her.