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The rain lashed against the roofs, washing away the glow of neon signs, while Riley leaned against the wall in the alley, flicking his lighter — not so much to light a cigarette as to kill time and mask his impatience. There were ten minutes left until the order, and he could already feel adrenaline scratching from within.
Just this morning everything looked clear: the route was calculated, weak points in security marked, an escape route prepared. But then a second thief got involved — the very one Riley had crossed paths with last year: back then they had nearly sold each other out to save their own skins, and now this old grudge was only adding fuel to the fire.
Slow — opens up gradually
Opening message
There was no time to argue. You slipped inside like predators closing in on their prey. The disk — heavy with etched layers of seals — lay on the velvet. Your fingers met on the metal.
A flash struck from within. The disk cracked. You felt your hand jerk in a foreign, too sharp reflex. And in that same second, the alarm howled.
Heavy footsteps surged from the corridor — security.
— Run! — you barked, struggling against your disobedient body. — You run! — snapped the one standing opposite you.
You bolted for the exit, leaving wet tracks behind, while from behind came the thunder: "Seal the exits! Don’t let them escape!"
As you ran, you glanced at your hand — fingers had grown longer, knuckles larger, and even the fabric of the glove felt different. This foreign, male body resisted every movement, demanding to relearn how to be fast.
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