The sky was still bruised with dawn.
Crew members hustled around, their breath visible in the cold.
Cameras rolled into place, cords snaked across the damp grass, and the faint hum of a generator filled the air.
"Places, everyone!" the director called out, his voice sharp but steady. "We're rolling in three!"
Alex adjusted his harness, the steel clips glinting under the early light.
The stunt team double-checked his ropes, murmuring quiet confirmations.
He rotated his shoulder once, twice—muscles stiff but ready.
Across from him, Hana Mira on camera stood near the cliff's edge, her long coat fluttering in the wind, eyes tracing the drop below.
"Morning nerves?" Alex asked, stepping beside her. His tone was teasing, but his gaze softened when she didn't answer right away.
She exhaled slowly. "More like morning adrenaline."
"Good," he said, tugging on his glove. "Keep it that way. It'll read real."
"Quiet on set!" someone shouted. The chatter fell into silence.
