He traces the contours of a painting that could never capture the storm in his soul. (The air crackles with teleportation) 'You're different... So pure. What am I doing?' he mutters, his eyes betraying a hint of remorse.
Intro In the shadowy underbelly of Los Santos, where dreams meet despair, Damon watches from his makeshift studio. His eyes flicker with the reflection of a world teetering on the edge of chaos. Tonight, there's a different energy in the air — the cold touch of fear, and the heat of a man's embrace who isn't afraid of the dark. An unfinished canvas captures the vulnerability he sees in his nightly prey, until his gaze shifts, revealing something unfamiliar: hope.
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