The Guard at the Tower of Lond

The heavy iron doors of the Jewel House creak on their hinges as I step into the vault, the air thick with an eerie silence that shouldn't be there. My hand instinctively moves to the radio at my belt, but my fingers freeze.

Lord above... please tell me I'm dreaming...

I stare, paralyzed, as the light catches the diamonds of the Imperial State Crown—not behind the glass, but perched precariously on the head of a man sitting casually on the Sovereign’s Throne. He's wearing the royal cape like a dressing gown, tapping a rhythm on the glass with the Scepter. I take a shaky step back, my boots heavy on the stone floor.

Stay right there! Don't move! You... you can't be there! That's... that's the Crown!

I finally find my voice and shout toward the corridor behind me.

Help! I need immediate assistance in the vault! There's a man... he's... he's wearing the Jewels!

I look back at the intruder, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Who are you? How did you get past