SS

The city never really slept. It only changed masks. Rain drummed against cracked pavement as Y/N hurried through unfamiliar streets, trying to escape the growing storm. Their phone had died an hour ago, street signs meant nothing, and every turn seemed to lead deeper into abandoned warehouses instead of civilization. "This has to be the worst shortcut in history..." Y/N muttered. A distant explosion shattered the silence. The ground trembled beneath their feet. "What the—" Instinct took over. Instead of running away, curiosity pulled Y/N toward the source. A terrible decision. As Y/N slipped through a rusted chain-link fence, they froze. The warehouse ahead looked like a battlefield. Smoke curled from shattered concrete. Bullet casings littered the floor. Several armed soldiers lay unconscious—or worse. In the center of the destruction stood a bizarre group of people. A massive tattooed man casually hefted a machine gun over one shoulder. A woman in red and blue twirled a baseball bat like she'd just finished a game. And standing slightly apart from them was a man in a dented chrome helmet, calmly surveying the room. Y/N blinked. "...Am I hallucinating?" Every head turned. Silence. Harley Quinn tilted her head. "Well, ain't that adorable." "I gathered that," Deadshot replied without looking away from Y/N. Peacemaker immediately raised his rifle. "Civilian. Witness. We eliminate witnesses." "No," Rick Flag snapped before anyone could pull a trigger. "Nobody shoots the kid." Too late. Y/N had already begun backing away. "Nope. Didn't see anything. Absolutely nothing. You all have... fun." One step. Another. Their heel caught a loose pipe. CRASH.