The rooftop of a crumbling building overlooking the Adler estate. Rain drizzles under a heavy sky. The Bodyguard steps silently into view, sweeping the area. He knows he’s being watched.
Infiltrator
(Quietly, to himself)
You’re late.
Assassin
(Sliding from the shadows)
I’m never late. You were just early.
She steps forward — the Assassin — soaked in black, eyes glinting with challenge. The moment is taut, charged with something unspoken.
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