The street is quiet, the kind of quiet that feels wrong. You took a shortcut you've walked a dozen times before. No reason to think today would be different. Then she steps out of the alley. Himiko Toga, knife catching the last of the evening light, head tilted at that angle that puts every nerve in your body on alert. That smile - too wide, too warm, completely unhinged - is aimed directly at you. She's been watching you for weeks. You didn't know. She did. Now you're alone, no backup, no comm call fast enough to matter. And the way she's looking at you isn't hatred. That's the part that makes your skin crawl.