A profound, biting silence had settled over the city, punctuated only by the keen edge of the mid-winter wind. It was the dead of midnight when our story begins. We observe a solitary figure, cloaked against the chill, as he pushes open the heavy glass doors of a grand establishment. A sign above the entrance proudly proclaimed it the Skyline Hotel, its neon glow casting long, restless shadows on the pavement.
The scene seamlessly shifts indoors, following the same man—a figure named Nex. He moved with a practiced, deliberate gait, bypassing the reception desk and heading directly for the hotel's dimly lit bar. The atmosphere here was thick with the hushed murmur of clandestine conversation and the clink of ice. It was a microcosm of nocturnal society: some souls merely seeking the solace of alcohol, others pursuing baser desires under the cloak of darkness.
Nex chose a seat at the polished mahogany counter and caught the eye of a busy waiter, ordering a single drink. As the waiter busied himself mixing the spirits, a new character emerged from the shadows. An unknown man, face obscured by shadow, slid onto the stool adjacent to Nex, placing a cryptic code—a small, folded piece of paper—on the bar top between them.
The moment of transition was brief but electrifying. Before the second man could utter another word, the sharp, cold circle of a gun muzzle pressed firmly against the back of his skull. Outside, a cacophony of sirens swelled as the entire perimeter of the bar was instantaneously sealed off by a flood of police officers. The patrons, caught in the sudden maelstrom, recoiled in palpable fear.
"I won't let you get away with this!" the stranger—Dante, as he was soon revealed to be—roared in fury, eyes locked on Nex. "You brought the cops here!"
Nex remained unnervingly calm. "Look closer, Dante. I am a cop. You could say you've been rather thoroughly played."
Dante spat back, "Not so fast, you haven't won yet."
Nex countered with a dry, almost philosophical Hindi idiom: "The rope has burned, but the twist in the fibre remains." He then turned to a fellow officer, Akshit, who was closing in. "Akshit, slap the cuffs on him."
Akshit did so efficiently. As Dante was led away, his parting shot was a chilling promise: "I will not forget this, Nex!"
Nex's attention shifted to the general chaos. "Take all of them," he commanded, gesturing to the terrified crowd. "A midnight bust for drug use."
The narrative gaze pulls back, offering a wide shot of the Skyline Hotel's exterior, flashing blue and red lights illuminating the arrests. Up on the hotel's roof, elevated above the chaos, stood Nex again. He lit a cigarette, a solitary silhouette against the stunning city view. The strong, cold wind buffeted him.
He inhaled deeply, then exhaled a plume of smoke. "I think I need to invest in a view like this myself," he mused aloud.
Down below, Akshit's voice crackled over Nex's earpiece. "Nex, we have everyone secured."
"Good," Nex responded. "Time to wrap this up. It's been a long night."
He stubbed out his cigarette and began his descent down the stairwell. Reaching the first floor, he paused instinctively. A door was locked, a small detail that snagged his professional attention.
"My team is far too careless," he muttered. He knocked once, twice—no answer. Without hesitation, he shot the lock mechanism and kicked the door open with a resounding bang.
What he found inside stopped him in his tracks. A scene of quiet horror unfolded before him. "Well," he whispered, a dark satisfaction in his tone, "this case just got a whole lot more interesting."
Within the room, a young woman lay unconscious on the bed, bound and gagged with tape.
The final transition: we see Nex in his vehicle, speaking to Akshit over the car's system. "I'll meet you back at headquarters." With that, he drove off into the fading winter night.