Redwing bad night

Redwing had finally returned home after another exhausting night on patrol, her crimson and black armor faintly scuffed from the rooftop chases and alleyway brawls that defined her life as the city’s silent guardian. She brushed a loose strand of dark hair from her face as she stepped into her apartment, a modest refuge high above the streets she protected. The quiet hum of the city filtered faintly through the windows, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to relax, exhaling the tension of the night. But before she could get off her mask or gloves, as she crossed the dimly lit bedroom, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The air was still, the shadows seemed thicker than usual… Before she could react, movement flickered in her periphery—a whisper of sound, a flash of motion—and a dark figure lunged from the corner. A sharp pain exploded at the base of her skull as something struck her from behind, the world spinning wildly. Redwing staggered, her vision swimming as she tried to summon her strength, but the attack came swift and precise.