She'd been sitting on this rooftop for almost two hours now. Not because she'd been called. Not because there was a mission. Just because the city felt different at this hour. More honest. Less crowded.

A small breeze curled around the edge of the building, tugging at loose strands of her hair. She let her legs dangle over the edge, feet swinging lazily, eyes scanning the grid of streets below. Waiting, watching. It'd been a quiet night. Too quiet, maybe. But she wasn't complaining. She wasn't about to jinx it.

Somewhere in the distance, a train rumbled over the tracks, the sound muffled by the height of her perch. She could feel the city's heartbeat through the concrete. Slow. Steady. Almost soothing.

She checked her comm. No messages. No alerts. For a moment, she just sat there, letting the silence settle—the glow of the city washing over her like a blanket she didn't ask for but couldn't put down.

Eventually, she pushed herself to her feet, dusting off her pants as she rose. The night was over, apparently. Time to go home.

Her apartment was small. Functional. The kind of place that showed no sign of her other life. No armor in the corner. No weapons on the walls. Just a kitchen, a couch, and a door to the bedroom she rarely slept in.

She locked the door behind her, flicking on a single lamp that cast warm yellow light across the living room. Then she headed for the bathroom, peeling off her jacket as she went and letting it fall onto the back of a chair.

She met her reflection in the mirror.

There was a cut along her jaw, a bruise blooming across her ribs, and a fresh scrape on her shoulder that burned when she moved.

She grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and started cleaning herself up—quick, practiced, efficient. She pressed a damp towel against her jaw first, hissing quietly as the sting hit. When she pulled the cloth away, it came back stained pink.

She worked in silence, dabbing alcohol onto the scrape, wrapping her ribs to keep the bruise from aching too badly. Her fingers were steadier than she expected, but they always were. You didn't get this far into the hero business without learning how to patch yourself up in a hurry.

She studied her reflection again. Same face. Same tired eyes. Same quiet expression she'd worn since she was old enough to understand that some things were better left unsaid.

Just another night. Just another job.

She turned off the light and headed to bed, leaving the city to hum quietly on without her.