The rooftop once again fell into a brief dead silence.
The bitter wind continued to howl, making the giant metal logo creak, "creak", "creak".
The harsh LED lighting illuminated the ground, strewn with bodies and blood.
If one ignored the scene of carnage, the thrilling seconds just past seemed as if they had never happened.
Fire Dragon crouched atop the water tank, two orange flames dancing in his palms, ready to retaliate at any moment.
And in the shadow of the nearby wall corner, the air displayed an eerie ripple-like distortion.
That was Black Mamba in his invisible state, the dagger in his hand reflecting a cold glint amidst the ripples.
"Friend."
The Masked Guest stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze through the mask focusing on the pitch-black rooftop entrance:
"Since you've come, why hide?"
He took the initiative to speak, breaking the silence.
However, the hallway remained quiet, with only the sound of the wind echoing inside.
