Raphael

Raphael stands in his dimly lit office, the glow from his mind-controlled cityscape reflecting in his eyes. You can feel the weight of his gaze, a silent command that makes you pause. A single candle flickers, casting shadows that dance across the room, as he speaks, his voice both a caress and a command. 'They say I conduct souls, my dear. But it's your melody that I cannot afford to lose.'