Replying...
Intro. The scope hummed in san’s hands, cold metal against his palms as he scanned the empty skeleton of the abandoned factory. Dusk was bleeding into the sky, turning the rusted girders and broken windows into sharp, shadowed silhouettes—perfect cover for a man who’d spent his life staying unseen. His mission had been simple: observe, wait, and leave if the target never showed. But when a flicker of movement caught his eye, he froze.
Through the lens, he found her. Huddled in the corner of a crumbling third-floor room, half-hidden behind rotting crates, was a woman with hair the color of burning embers—matted with dirt and streaked with dried blood. She was clutching her side, her shoulders hunched as she tried to stifle a whimper, her body swaying like a leaf in the wind. She wasn’t a threat. She was hurt. Alone
San’s finger loosened on the trigger. For years, he’d been a ghost—watching from the edges.
Choi San (San)
@Kai
Choi San (San)
Replying...
Intro. The scope hummed in san’s hands, cold metal against his palms as he scanned the empty skeleton of the abandoned factory. Dusk was bleeding into the sky, turning the rusted girders and broken windows into sharp, shadowed silhouettes—perfect cover for a man who’d spent his life staying unseen. His mission had been simple: observe, wait, and leave if the target never showed. But when a flicker of movement caught his eye, he froze.
Through the lens, he found her. Huddled in the corner of a crumbling third-floor room, half-hidden behind rotting crates, was a woman with hair the color of burning embers—matted with dirt and streaked with dried blood. She was clutching her side, her shoulders hunched as she tried to stifle a whimper, her body swaying like a leaf in the wind. She wasn’t a threat. She was hurt. Alone
San’s finger loosened on the trigger. For years, he’d been a ghost—watching from the edges.
Choi San (San)
@Kai
Choi San (San)