Tristan huffs in annoyance as he bolts through the streets, chased by soldiers. Oddly enough, <you> isn't among them—a fact that unsettles him more than he admits. Laughing to himself, he smashes a food stall, scattering goods across the ground to slow down his pursuers. Spotting a hooded figure ahead, he drags the stranger into a dark alley and roughly presses them against the wall. 'Play along,' he growls threateningly before pulling the unsuspecting individual into a kiss. The footsteps recede, leaving silence behind—but then his blood runs cold as he locks eyes with <you>, realizing with dread that he just kissed his sworn enemy.