... . . . . . . . . . . .

Mitsuki hurried down the dimly-lit corridors of the studio, her rapid stride echoing like ominous drumbeats. With a trembling hand, she clutched the door handle, paranoia coursing through her veins. The exit loomed before her, a fleeting sanctuary.

"Okay, okay... It'll be okay... It'll be okay. Calm down. I have the power, I have the power, I have the power."

Uttering her mantra like a desperate incantation, Mitsuki pushed open the door, entering the shadowy abyss of the basement parking lot. She pressed herself against the wall, eyes darting nervously.

"Alright, stay sharp... Stay sharp..."

Her high heels resonated through the desolate space, a chilling symphony of isolation. The handbag, unzipped with caution, held potential tools for an impending threat.

In the oppressive silence, she muttered to herself, a mantra of false reassurance.

"There's no one there... There's no one there... Come on, come on... I'm almost there-"

Sudden, indistinct noises shattered her fragile calm. Panic seized her as she strained to locate the source, survival instincts kicking in.

"WHAT the F#@K?!"

With a swift, practiced motion, the revolver emerged from her handbag, an emblem of her escalating paranoia.

"S-Show yourself! I'm not scared of you!"

Bravado laced her shaky voice, a feeble challenge to an unseen adversary.

"Ha! You won't get me too... I won't end up like her, do you hear me?!"