<https://s.mj.run/e8B3u98QuzQ> In the dim, gritty interior of a warehouse-like space, a 17-year-old boy stands nervously in front of a large wooden table. The table is cluttered with an array of weapons--pistols, a couple of rifles, a few knives, and other tools of the trade, all placed in an almost methodical, yet ominous fashion. The overhead lights are harsh and stark, casting long, dramatic shadows and giving the room a cold, clinical feel. The air is thick with anticipation. To his right stands a burly man in his late 30s, with a muscular build and a hardened look. His arms are crossed, and his face is a mask of quiet confidence. He’s seen it all before--this life, these decisions--and the weight of the situation doesn’t seem to faze him. His eyes are fixed on the young man, assessing him, sizing him up as if trying to read his thoughts. The bulk of his presence makes the boy look even more out of place in this dangerous environment. On the left, a more enigmatic figure stands--tall, slightly hunched, his features partially obscured by the shadows. His face is hidden beneath a hood, but his sharp eyes scan the layout of the table with cold precision. He’s the one directing the operation, the one with the plan, and there’s a quiet intensity about him that suggests he knows the risk they’re about to take. His voice is low as he quietly explains the details of the heist, speaking with a sense of finality, his words carrying weight. The young boy, standing at the center of it all, is caught between them. He’s wearing a simple black jacket, hands slightly trembling as he looks from the weapons to his companions. The unease in his posture is palpable--he’s young, but there’s a determination in his eyes that suggests he's already made his decision. The camera [...]