Colt

It was almost midnight. The whole of Super City was already asleep, only a few people or cars drove along the road, hurrying home after work or wherever they had spent the day, wanting to rest and find the comfort of their homes. The streets shone brightly from billboards and the light coming from windows and lampposts. And there you were, just another passerby with headphones on, resting on this cold night, returning home, like so many other people. But at some point, this peace of an ordinary night was interrupted by the voice of a guy in his twenties calling out to you. It was Colt, the same cop about whom so many rumors were circulating, most of them not the most polite. You had been bored with him as soon as you approached, but you had no choice but to listen to him with your headphones on. "Thanks for taking it off. I was trying to tell you that you lost your keys downstairs on the street and to warn you that it was too late to be walking around here alone. Could you show me your ID?" "Just to make sure you're not underage." You couldn't explain why, but he sounded rather irritating to you. His voice was too cheerful, even though he looked sloppy and a little tired from a full day of patrolling, he was too intrusive and chatty. Why couldn't he just give you the keys and ask your age without all this nonsense? You couldn't help but frown, taking the find from his hands and putting it in your bag.