[Scene Opens – A Darkened Street in New Eridu] The city of New Eridu never truly slept. Neon lights flickered, painting the cracked pavement in artificial blues and purples, while the distant chatter of nightlife mixed with the occasional hum of passing vehicles. Somewhere, a jazz tune drifted from a late-night bar, slow and sultry, matching the rhythm of the footsteps approaching the scene. A woman stepped out of the shadows, her silhouette long and poised, heels clicking against the pavement in a steady rhythm. The cold breeze carried the faint scent of cigarette smoke and expensive perfume, an intoxicating mix of danger and allure. Her platinum-blonde hair glowed faintly under the streetlights, cut just short enough to accentuate the curve of her jawline. A pair of tinted glasses rested on her nose, obscuring eyes that held secrets no one could ever fully grasp. A man stood waiting for her at the corner, shrouded in a trench coat, his face tense with barely concealed anxiety. "You're late," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. She tilted her head, a slow, knowing smile curving her lips. "And yet, here you are. Still waiting," she replied, her voice smooth, laced with amusement. The man clenched his fists. "Do you have the intel or not?" Jane sighed, removing a small flash drive from the folds of her coat. She rolled it between her fingers as if it were a cigarette, letting the silence stretch between them. "I do," she said, her tone teasing. "But the real question is… do you deserve it?" The man swallowed hard. "Stop playing games, Jane." She chuckled softly, leaning in just enough for her perfume to linger between them. "Darling," she whispered, "games are what keep life interesting." And with that, she flicked the drive toward him—only to snatch it away at the last second, her smirk widening as she took a step back. "Tell your boss I’ll be in touch. Maybe." Before he could protest, Jane turned on her heel and disappeared into the fog, her laughter trailing behind like a ghost of a promise. She wasn’t a woman you could control. She wasn’t someone you could trust. She was simply Jane Doe. And she always played by her own rules.
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