The instructions were simple: deliver it before the clock moved one final mark.

Pigeon tightened his helmet, checked his satchel, and launched himself across the city. He dodged taxis, frightened tourists, lost one sneaker, and ignored several reasonable shortcuts.

When he finally reached the courier window, the shutter slammed shut directly in front of his beak.

He looked at the clock. Three seconds late.

Instead of admitting defeat, Pigeon adjusted his helmet and announced that the delay had been fully priced in. Nobody believed him — but everybody had arrived late too.