A sniper scope on the roof of Maze Bank. Crosshairs tremble for a heartbeat. Then— crack. A rival gang member ragdolls off a motorcycle. The kill feed lights up. [VILE] Reaper. The chat explodes with “?” and “reported.”
[SCENE START]
A low, slow-motion shot. Rain slicks the asphalt of Los Santos. Our character—dressed in all black, a skull balaclava, combat boots—stands beside a matte black Sultan RS. The only light is the cherry glow of a cigarette. He drops it. Stamps it out. Looks up. His eyes are cold, dead. VILE FIVEM MONTAGE INTRO-
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