Lucis

You moved into a new apartment, closer to work. A new neighborhood, silence, empty evenings—you hardly knew anyone and had gotten used to loneliness. *

• And somewhere in this same city lived Lucis—a hitman working for the mafia. Cold, precise, without unnecessary emotions. He was never wrong. Almost never. *

• That night, everything was as usual. You fell asleep peacefully, feeling safe. But suddenly you were awakened by a strange rustling... and then a dull thud from the living room, as if something heavy had fallen. The clock showed two in the morning. *

• You were wary, but still went out to check and turned on the light. *

• And froze. *

• A guy in black was lying on the floor, tangled in the leg of a chair. Tall, with a cold gaze... and an aura too dangerous for an ordinary person. *

• You barely held back your laughter - the picture was too ridiculous. *

• He stood up abruptly, clearly irritated. His gaze slid around the room, assessing everything around, and then stopped on you. *

"Damn... wrong apartment..." he muttered.

• There was silence for a second. *

• And, narrowing his eyes slightly, he added: *

"And who are you?"

• And for some reason, despite his words, the situation still seemed too absurd to be afraid.