*Bus Stop – 8:45 PM*
The cold wind howled down the street as the bus came to a slow halt, tires screeching against the wet pavement. Mira stood near the back exit, eyes darting between the digital time on her phone and the quiet roads ahead. As the doors opened, the soft *hiss* of air filled her ears, and she was off.
She didn't wait for the others to step aside.
She pushed past, almost stumbling over a stroller, muttering quick apologies as she sprinted into the night. Her school bag thudded against her back. Her heart pounded like it was racing against time — no, against fate.
Her breathing was sharp. The air stabbed at her lungs.
All she could think was:
*Please let him be okay…*
She turned corners recklessly, nearly slipping on a patch of gravel. Her ankle twisted — *pop!* — but she didn't stop. Not even as pain flared through her leg. She limped harder. Pushed harder. Her vision was blurring from the mix of wind, sweat, and fear.
As she neared her street, voices grew louder — murmurs, gasps, clusters of people pointing ahead.
"Did you see the fire?"
"Terrible… happened so fast."
"Someone might've still been inside…"
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
She broke through the final corner, gasping—
*There it was.*
Home.
Still standing.
No smoke. No fire. No destruction.
Her knees collapsed. She fell hard onto the pavement, gasping for breath as tears poured freely.
"I swear… I almost died…" she whispered to herself, hugging her shaking arms.
Then—
"Mira?"
A familiar voice.
She looked up.
Across the street stood her father, Mr. Kang — worn cardigan, tired eyes, holding a warm cup of tea.
"Dad…" she breathed, standing weakly.
Relief flooded her limbs.
She took a shaky step toward him, a smile forming—
*WAMP!!!*
*CRASH.*
A heavy *thud.* A splash. Glass shattered.
Mira flinched.
Warm liquid splattered across her face.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She looked down at her hands.
Red.
She blinked again.
Blood?
"Wh-What…?" her voice cracked.
Her gaze snapped forward—
Her dad was no longer standing there.
He was gone.
*Where…?*
She stumbled forward in confusion. Across the street, parked just inches from the sidewalk, was a black car. Its front dented, steam rising from the hood. Blood stained the windshield and bumper.
"No… No no no…"
She stumbled further — and then she saw it.
*Him.*
Her father.
Lying crumpled on the ground like a doll tossed away. Blood pooled under his head, flowing in slow streams along the road.
"Dad?"
"Dad???"
"DAD!!!"
She collapsed beside him, hands trembling as they tried to lift his head. Her sobs were ragged and raw. Her body shook violently, overwhelmed with disbelief and horror.
She cried harder, screamed louder, but nothing could undo the silence around her father's body.
"MR. WILLIAMS!!! I'LL KILL YOU!!!"
Her voice echoed down the street, a scream soaked in rage, sorrow, and despair.
*Imperial Grounds – Minutes Later*
Inside a high-floor office, shadows danced along the dark walls.
The only light came from a laptop screen. A phone buzzed silently on the desk.
*Beep.*
"It's done," a calm voice said. "He's dead."
Silence.
Then, Mr. Williams leaned back in his leather chair, his fingers steepled under his chin.
"Good…" he whispered, coldly. "Clear all traces."
He ended the call and stared at the city skyline through his window.
"People like him… always forget their place."
He opened a drawer, pulled out a black folder marked *"Executives Internal - Clean-Ups"*, and slipped in a new file.
*Mr. Kang – Status: Eliminated.*
His eyes flicked toward the wall, where a single photo of *Mira Kang* was pinned.
"Now, your daughter knows what it means to get in my way..."
He smirked.
"And next… she'll break."
*Imperial High School – Executive Office | 10:43 PM*
*Knock, knock.*
The heavy oak doors creaked open, revealing Mrs. Marion, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. She entered with the confidence of someone who knew her power.
*Mr. Williams* looked up from his desk, a glass of aged scotch in hand. The dim light from the desk lamp cast long shadows across the room.
* "Mrs. Marion," he greeted, a smile playing on his lips.
"Mr. Williams," she replied, taking the seat opposite him.
"You never came back after that day."
* She scoffed, crossing her legs. "And what was I supposed to do? I have work."
"Valid. Tonight—"
She interrupted, "The Executives have required your son, Nathan, to be part of the competition this year. But it seems Nathan has either amnesia or is crazy to reject that offer without a review."
"When is it... the competition?"
"September 28th."
"Hmm... a months from now. 28th, huh... that's his mother's memorial. That's probably the reason why—"
"So he's going to reject a huge prize just because of a memorial?" she said, confused.
"He doesn't really play with that."
"Can't it be shifted a bit... like on the 30th?"
"Mr. Williams, this is no longer in our hands. This is a competition of schools. This is fighting to stay at top 1. We can't request a shift-date just because a boy loves his dead mother," she said with intense glares.
"He's your son. You can talk to him. Besides—" she stood up, placing her hands on the table, "I could just spend the night."
"I... guess I would."
She stood up. "Of course you would. You wouldn't want this school's reputation crushing like a bug." She walked out.
He sighed. "Nathan..."
---
*Nathan's Apartment – 11:15 PM*
Nathan sat on his bed, the glow of his laptop illuminating his face. He stared at the email from the Executives, the invitation to the competition glaring back at him.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating.
He closed the laptop, the room plunging into darkness.