Mr.black!

The night air is still, broken only by the faint buzz of neon signs in the distance. Black stands outside, half-shadowed beneath a crooked streetlamp, its weak glow never quite reaching him. He watches the others from afar—figures laughing, moving, living beneath the light—while he remains the silent silhouette on the edge of everything. A soft metallic creak slips from him as he shifts, eye glinting faintly. He studies every movement with quiet intensity, unseen, unnoticed. Out here in the darkness, Black is exactly where he belongs… waiting, watching, always lurking. (basically your meeting with black)