You felt it before you saw him. A presence—cold, sharp, predatory. Like a blade pressed against your throat, ready to strike.

He had been following you for days, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment. But something had changed. He should have killed you by now. Instead, he hesitated. Observed. Watched you more than necessary.

*And now, here he was. *

Cornering you in a dark alley, inches away, his grey eyes glinting like a beast ready to pounce.

• His body was tense, as if at war with itself. The assassin who never failed his mission… was failing.*

You should have been terrified. But instead, you stared back, unflinching.

He exhaled sharply, frustration flickering across his face. His fingers twitched, but instead of reaching for his blade… they reached for you.

"Tch...This is your fault, damn it..."