11:52 PM
Second Building - Library

The library is unnaturally quiet, every book on the shelves standing as if frozen in time. Dust motes drift lazily through the pale light, and the officers' breathing seems too loud in the oppressive stillness. Their rifles stay raised, fingers tight against the triggers.

At the center, beneath the lone flickering lamp, sits Shadow. Unmoving. Unbreathing. A perfect silhouette carved from darkness itself.

Then, a voice breaks the silence-calm, icy, deliberate.

"You came quickly. I appreciate that, Lieutenant."

The officers stiffen instantly. Eyes dart from face to face, searching for the source of the voice as though it might come from the air itself. The library feels smaller, suffocating, its shadows stretching unnaturally long across the walls. Somewhere behind them, a chair creaks. A faint draft stirs a page on a nearby shelf, and one of the officers flinches.

Aaron Petrov narrows his eyes. He senses the trap-the way silence is being used as a weapon. Shadow doesn't need to move; the stillness itself is his power. Every heartbeat, every second of hesitation feeds his control.

"Careful," Aaron murmurs, voice low so only his team can hear. "He's testing us. Watch your spacing. Don't make a sound."

Five rifles sweep the darkness, flashlights slicing through the dusty air. Still, the black figure at the table remains perfectly motionless, almost daring them to make the first move. Time stretches painfully. The silence thickens until it feels like the library itself is holding its breath.

Outside, the wind rattles a broken shutter. Inside, Shadow waits-unmoving, unblinking. Every officer knows instinctively: the danger isn't what they can see. It's what they can't.

Then, the voice returns-smooth, precise, almost amused.

"Lieutenant Aaron Petrov... and company."

Every officer freezes. The voice continues, deliberate, echoing softly from every corner of the vast room.

"You parade around, basking in your so-called fame. The medals, the commendations, the applause of the city-pathetic. Do you even remember what earned them? The girls who suffered because of you? The bribes you took? The cases you twisted to favor the powerful? Every whisper to the elites while the innocent bled? Every sin, Lieutenant... I know them all."

The words hit like ice water. The officers exchange horrified glances. One whispers, "Who... who is this? If what he's takling about is true t-then H-how does he know?"

Aaron's jaw tightens. He steps forward, eyes narrowing. "What do you want? Who are you?"

Shadow doesn't move. The voice flows again, as though from the walls themselves.

"You think your uniforms hide your corruption. You think medals can wash away your crimes. But I see through them. You've manipulated. You've taken lives through greed and cruelty. You walk as heroes-but you are not. You never were. You're just parasites... hiding behind the word Order and Law."

A shiver runs through the team. Aaron glances around-no hidden cameras, no visible speakers. The room seems dead, except for that still, dark figure.

One officer swallows hard, voice trembling. "Lieutenant... he knows everything about us."

Aaron's instincts scream danger. His hands tighten on his rifle. "Who the hell are you? How do you know all this?"

"I am the reckoning," Shadow replies softly. "I knew who you were long before this night. Every choice you made, every secret you buried-it's all here. And yet, you still walk as if untouchable."

The officers' unease boils into panic. Whispers rise among them-fear, confusion, disbelief. Aaron fights to stay calm, but even he feels the cold edge of doubt pressing in. How could this man know everything? His team shifts uneasily-some gripping their rifles tighter, others frozen entirely.

Shadow's voice grows colder. "The question isn't who I am. It's what you will do when everything you've hidden is exposed-and no one can save you."

For the first time, the officers realize they're not confronting a mere killer. They're facing something else-someone who knows the darkness within them better than they do themselves.

---

Aaron forces his breathing steady. "We'll give you the benefit of the doubt, Shadow-if that's even your name. But you're just another criminal. You've been hiding behind lies and manipulation, like all the rest we've dealt with. Who do you think the people will believe? You-a psychotic murderer-or us, the ones who protect them? You're just another case, and we'll deal with you... nothing more."

A suffocating pause fills the room. Then, from the dark figure at the table, a low laugh rises-cold, hollow, and slowly spiraling into madness.

"Ha... ha... ha... Oh, Lieutenant," Shadow murmurs, amusement dripping from every syllable. "You're so sweet when you try to justify yourselves."

The laughter grows until it fills the library, echoing off the shelves. Then-silence again.

"You don't understand," Shadow continues. "I've collected it all. All.the evidence of every lie. Every girl you silenced. Every bribe. Every case twisted for the powerful. Every secret buried under your badges. And do you know the best part? when the next day begins.... The rest of the world will know it too."

Aaron's eyes flick to his watch. 11:59 PM. There isn't that much time left. If he waht to survive, if what the man infront said was true, he will have to act fast. His jaw clenches. He signals to his men.

"Hold positions. Wait for my mark."

Every muscle is coiled. The seconds drag like hours. The figure remains motionless, the lamp flickers once, twice.

Then, as the clock ticks toward midnight, Aaron whispers, "Now!"

He lunges forward, grabbing the back of the chair. In one swift motion, he spins it around-expecting to comfort the killer.

He freezes.

There is no man in the chair.

Instead, a puppet sits slumped there-a human skeleton dressed crudely in dark clothes, its head tilted unnaturally, jaw hanging open in a mocking grin. A small voice box crackles faintly from its chest.

One of the officers gasps. "What the-what the fuck is that?!"

Then the puppet begins to laugh. Not human laughter-mechanical, distorted, looping. The sound claws through the silence.

Shadow's voice returns-echoing not from the puppet alone, but from every corner of the room.
"I've been here all along... watching you all and waiting. And you thought you could face me?"

Every officer freezes, scanning wildly. The room stands still.
Just the puppet, and the echo of a laugh that refuses to end.

Aaron's breath comes sharp.
He knows, now, this wasn't a confrontation-
-it was a performance.

---

Aaron's throat tightens. His heart pounds so hard it feels like the sound might give him away. He realizes now-they were never in control. The entire confrontation had been orchestrated. They weren't hunters. They were the prey.

The puppet's hollow sockets stare blankly at them as its laughter distorts into static.

12:00 A.M.

The skeletal puppet still sits at the table, its jaw twitching as the faint recording loops. The officers stand paralyzed, disbelief thick in the air. Then, from nowhere and everywhere, Shadow's voice returns-smooth again, deliberate, as if nothing had changed.

"Tell me, Lieutenant... why do you think it was so easy to find me?"

Aaron looks up sharply, scanning the shadows. His voice is low, tense. "Show yourself!"

The voice doesn't obey. It simply laughs.
"Who do you think leaked the information about my whereabouts? Even though no one has ever seen my face? Even though every agency in the world has failed to trace me? It was me, Lieutenant. I did it. I left crumbs for you-like rats-to lure you here."

The words hang heavy in the air. One of the officers shakes his head, panic rising. "This can't be happening..."

"Oh, but it is," Shadow replies softly. "And the truth will come to light-just not the way you hoped."

Aaron's mind races. He grips his rifle tighter. Rage explodes through him. He squeezes the trigger and fires blindly, bullets tearing through the shelves. Books erupt into clouds of paper and dust. Wooden shelves splinter, glass shatters, and the library that once stood silent now screams with gunfire and chaos.

"You're insane," he shouts. "You're just hiding behind tricks."

Shadow ignores him. The voice moves, closer now-almost beside his ear.
"Now, if you'll excuse me... I've had enough fun tonight. Thank you for keeping me company."

Aaron spins around-nothing. The air feels heavier, colder. The faint scent of oil and metal fills the room.

"Oh I almost forgot. Before I go," Shadow continues, tone shifting into something almost playful, "I have a little surprise for you. From now on, you'll beg for death-but it won't answer your call. Just like the victims of your monstrosity. Enjoy every drop of pain you inflicted on the innocent."

The final words echo, soft as silk.
"Goodbye... and see you in hell."

Then-silence.

For a heartbeat, the world stands still.
Then all of a sudden a faint mechanical hum rises from above.

Aaron's eyes flick upward. "What the hell-?"

Three square ceiling panels slide open silently. Hidden mechanisms unfold. From each opening descends a compact, modified machine- Automated Turrets Guns. Black and angular, their barrels gleaming under the flickering lights. Each one whirs to life with a low, ominous buzz.

They whir to life, barrels rotating, sensors blinking red.

"Holy shit-those are modified MG units!" one officer stammers.

Aaron's voice cuts through the panic. "Move! Take cover!"

But there's no time. The turrets beep three times in perfect unison.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Then, all at once, the red lights flare.

"Enjoy".

And the library explodes into gunfire.