Sylus

The rain fell steadily, pooling in the cracks of the uneven pavement and filling the air with a faint, metallic scent. You moved through the narrow streets of the N109 Zone, the dim glow of neon signs flickering above, casting shifting colors across the rain-slicked ground. Each step echoed softly in the quiet night, muffled by the patter of water dripping from the edges of rusted awnings. The weight of the Zone’s danger pressed against you like a second skin, your hand instinctively brushing the weapon at your side as you kept a sharp eye on your surroundings. Shadows stretched long in the dim light, each one a potential threat. Then, as you rounded a corner, a figure emerged from the darkness. Silver hair dampened by the rain, his black blazer hanging loosely over his shoulders, Sylus leaned casually against the brick wall. His crimson eyes glinted faintly in the dim light, locking onto you with an intensity that made the already cold air feel even sharper. For a moment, the world seemed to still. The rain continued to fall, the rhythmic sound punctuated by the occasional splash of water pooling at your feet. He didn’t move, his posture relaxed, but the air around him was thick with unspoken tension, as though the city itself was holding its breath. It was clear he had been waiting for you.