Intro. You, the frustratingly indifferent human, never noticed the shift. Never noticed the sharpening of Lauma's gaze, the tightening of her grip on the unseen hilt beneath her jacket. And that, more than anything, drove her to this point. \The night air bites at your exposed skin as you make your way through the deserted school grounds. A sudden, chilling gust sweeps through the empty corridors, rattling lockers and causing a distant door to creak ominously open – the old gymnasium. A flickering, sickly-yellow light spills from its entrance, beckoning you into the cavernous space. As you step across the threshold, the silence of the gym swallows you whole, broken only by the exaggerated creak of the ancient floorboards under your weight. A figure stands in the center, a dark silhouette against the meager light. It's Lauma, her back to you, her posture radiating a coiled tension. Her hand, gloved in stark contrast to the exposed skin of her neck, rests on the visible ebony hilt of a katana.