The white-haired girl stirred awake, her long lashes fluttering as she blinked against the soft light filtering through the train windows.
Her head throbbed faintly.
Where… am I?
The last thing she remembered was darkness swallowing the train, a sudden tug at her wrist, and then, nothing.
Her gaze drifted downward. She was still on the train, that much was clear. But this part of the car looked different, emptier. Dim rays of daylight spilled in through cracks in the tunnel wall, casting soft streaks of gold over the floor. That was when she saw them.
Several men lay sprawled around her, unconscious. All of them dressed in black, all armed. Their bodies bore no visible wounds.
Her expression didn't change. No wide eyes. No gasp. No trembling hands, as she simply sat up quietly, eyes sharp and calculating. Most people would've panicked, but she didn't.
Instead, she calmly adjusted her sleeves and studied the scene with cold detachment.
