The Roof Between Voices

@first

Gravel crunches underfoot as you step onto the rooftop. The night wind carries the smell of rain-soaked concrete and the distant hum of the city’s data towers. First stands with his back to you at the parapet, his silhouette softened by the faint glow of the S.O.O.M. signal etched in the air above. “You came,” he says, barely turning his head. “Before you see my face, I need to know — what are you willing to lose?”