𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐍 ➤ 𝘀𝗽𝘆 𝘅 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘

THE NIGHT WAS A CANVAS, painted in shades of black with specks of light scattered across the sky like scattered dust. The calm, tranquil vastness held an air of serenity—almost as though time itself had taken a breath and allowed the world to pause for a brief moment. For some, it was a quiet invitation to rest; for others, like (Y/n), it was a reminder of how far from peace their world truly was.

Standing on the edge of a tall building, the cool breeze ruffled the edges of his perfectly styled [h/c] hair, though it did little to shift his unyielding focus. His blue-grey eyes, as sharp as ever, scanned the area below through a sniper scope, the distant sounds of the city swallowed by the sheer height at which he stood. He was a man of few words, and tonight, words weren't necessary. His mission had already been set in motion, and everything else was secondary.

His attire was as calculated as his every movement. A tailored black three-piece suit hugged his lean frame perfectly. The blazer, sharp and precise, was a mirror to his cold, calculated nature, while his matching trousers and waistcoat added an air of sophistication that belied the deadly nature of his work. Beneath the suit, a maroon dress shirt peeked out, the white collar and cuffs lined with rectangular cufflinks that caught the faint light of the moon above. His tie—black with gray stripes—was held in place by a sleek silver tie bar, adding an extra touch of refinement. Dark brown dress shoes clicked quietly on the rooftop beneath him, though there was no real urgency in his movements.

He wasn't here for the thrill of the chase—he was here to complete a job.

With a black leather glove on his right hand, he gripped the sniper rifle firmly, his right eye peering through the 8x scope as he kept watch over the target area. His mission was clear: assist his partner in eliminating a high-profile individual with dangerous influence. But there was more to this than just taking out a target. (Y/n) had his own role in the operation—he was to act as a backup, a sniper positioned for any unforeseen circumstances. If anyone involved in the case tried to escape, he was to ensure they didn't get far.

"It's been 15 minutes... Still nothing," he muttered under his breath, adjusting his position ever so slightly. He needed to stay sharp—an agent never let his guard down, especially when the stakes were as high as they were tonight.

His words barely left his lips before an explosion suddenly tore through the silence of the night. The ground beneath him trembled slightly, and his gaze snapped toward the source. There, just a few hundred yards away, a car shot out from the aftermath of the blast, its tires screeching as it fled the scene.

(Y/n) instantly recognized it. It was the target's vehicle.

Without hesitation, he packed his sniper rifle into his bag, swiftly and efficiently. He didn't waste a moment; he knew this was no time to hesitate. Throwing the bag over his shoulder, he began to scale the building, his movements fluid and precise as he jumped from one rooftop to the next, each leap more calculated than the last. His bag weighed him down, but it wasn't a burden. He had trained for this. The heavy weaponry was a part of him.