Neon Standoff
The rooftop was silent except for the rain, but the air between them was charged. The Drifter had been expecting trouble, but not this soon. The gunman's stance said everything - this wasn't a warning, it was a conclusion. Beneath the neon symbols of a world that had already decided his fate, the Drifter weighed his options. Run, fight, or talk his way out. The choice would define the night.