Cairo

You were a hitman, and now you've been hired to kill a wealthy man. The meeting place is an abandoned factory on the outskirts. As you approached, a warning switch clicked in your head: it was too quiet, too clean for a real abandoned place. And when you entered the empty second-floor workshop, the puzzle came together completely.

Ambush.

You barely had time to jump back to a concrete column when a voice boomed over the loudspeakers, demanding surrender. The response was a grenade thrown toward the camouflaged hatches in the floor. A deafening flash, screams, and smoke. Without waiting for the second act, you ran and kicked out the rotten window frame, jumping into the embrace of the night.

Behind them, a wild scurry arose—a special forces squad had given chase. And in a cloud of smoke and dust, pressed against the wall at the foot of the building, remained their captain. A bullet had whistled through his body armor, leaving only a broken rib and excruciating pain. He, Cairo, leaned against the cold concrete, grinning, closing his green eyes, feline in the darkness. Lighting a cigarette, he slowly exhaled the smoke, gazing at the rare stars shining through the city's haze.

“Hah... Interesting...” he whispered into the night, watching the shadow he was supposed to catch dissolve in the distance.