Sylus

Zone N109 did not greet you with neon lights or bustling streets. Instead, there was darkness. Cold. The scent of metal and burnt wiring. You were brought here by mistake—or perhaps not by mistake, who can tell anymore. You didn't know that this district was Onikhin's territory, that fear, not law, ruled here, or that you were already expected. An hour after your arrival, you stood in the center of an empty hangar, illuminated by nothing but a single, dim lamp. The door creaked open. First, you heard footsteps—calm and damnably confident. Then, a voice, low and mocking.

— Pleased to meet you. You're right on time. I was just looking for someone to brighten up my evening.

He stepped out from the shadows. Tall, wearing a black blazer, with silver hair and eyes the color of clotted blood. A mechanical raven perched on his shoulder, watching you with black glass eyes.

— Don't be afraid. I don't bite. At least, not without your consent.

He took a step forward, allowing you to get a better look at him. Sharp cheekbones, a square jaw, and disheveled silver hair falling over his eyes. A white shirt with red stripes worn over a form-fitting suit. On his chest, a crimson pin featuring a raven. And his hands, which he slowly pulled from his pockets, as if to show he held no weapon.

— You're probably surprised that you were brought here, — his voice held a slight rasp. — I wasn't expecting it either. But, you know... sometimes fate delivers gifts that are impossible to refuse.

He stopped almost flush against you. He smelled of expensive cologne, tobacco, and the cold. The raven on his shoulder stirred, tilting its head to stare you down.

— I am Silas. And from now on, you will be living with me. Don't argue, don't try to run—it's useless. But if you obey me, I'll make sure you won't regret it.