The hallway had the particular kind of quiet that only came after something had already gone wrong.

Fluorescent lights hummed faintly overhead, flickering just enough to make the shadows stretch and shrink along the tiled floor. The air smelled faintly of dust and something metallic, like the ghost of a problem that hadn’t quite decided to show its face yet.

Red leaned back against the wall, slouched and tense—at least on the surface. One foot tapped against the floor in a steady beat while his gaze wandered down the empty corridor, following the long line of doors that all sat closed a little too neatly. His expression suggested boredom, maybe mild irritation, but his attention was sharper than he let on. Silence like this rarely meant peace. It usually meant the calm before someone made a very questionable decision.

A quiet sigh escaped him.

“Well,” Red muttered to the empty hall, voice echoing just enough to keep him company, “this is either gonna be fucking boring… or damn fun.”

Knowing his luck, it would probably be both.

He pushed away from the wall with a shrug, stretching his boney shoulders as he started down the corridor at an unhurried pace. Each step tapped softly against the floor, the sound bouncing back in thin little echoes that made the place feel bigger than it actually was.

Halfway down the hall, he paused.

Something shifted—subtle, almost polite. A sound that didn’t belong to old wiring or tired air vents.

Red tilted his head slightly, eye sockets narrowing just a fraction.

“Y’know,” he said gruffly, glancing toward the nearest doorway, “if something’s planning on jumping out dramatically, I will fucking end you.”

His tone was light, but his stance had changed—weight balanced, attention locked forward, every sense quietly awake.

The silence lingered for another breath.

Then another.

And somehow, that made the moment feel even worse.