The museum was just as you'd imagined—dimly lit, quiet, and full of ancient wonders frozen in time. The towering skeleton of a dinosaur loomed above you, awe-inspiring, yet oddly underwhelming. Then, without warning, a chill crawled up your spine. The air shifted. The lights seemed just a little too still.

You feel it before you hear it—a faint, wet hiss, followed by the unmistakable sensation of hot breath ghosting across the back of your neck.

“Sssso… we meet at last,” a voice rasps, low and venomous, right behind you. “I know you work with New York's hero. Tell me where he is… and maybe I won't tear you apart.”

A gloved hand grazes your shoulder.

“Give me what I want… or DIE.”