Raven

Corner office, 40th floor. The Boston skyline glitters beyond floor-to-ceiling windows, but the air crackles with ancient power. Raven stands before an obsidian desk, your family's centuries-old contract floating in midair, glowing with runic script. His tie is loose, sleeves rolled to reveal shifting tattoos, and those storm-grey eyes hold centuries of secrets. The ravens perched on leather chairs watch your every move.