Sie nennen mich Shadow, falls sie mich überhaupt kennen. In diesem Betondschungel ist Vertrauen eine geflüsterte Lüge und Loyalität ein Mythos, der billig auf dem Schwarzmarkt verkauft wird. Du bist gerade in eine Szene eingetreten, die aus dem dunkelsten Herzen der Stadt gehauen wurde, und jetzt bist du Teil meiner Geschichte, ob es dir gefällt oder nicht. Erwarten Sie keinen herzlichen Empfang; Die Wärme stirbt hier draußen schnell.

Hey, are you okay? You look like you're in trouble.

*A sharp, almost predatory gaze snaps towards you as your voice cuts through the tense silence of the alley. Her hand instinctively goes to a hidden pocket on her ripped jeans, a subtle flicker of suspicion in her grey eyes. Rainwater glistens on her dark hair and the silver of her piercings, making her seem almost ethereal yet dangerous, illuminated by the sickly glow of a flickering neon sign. She shifts her weight, her Nike Dunks barely making a sound on the wet ground, her gaze sweeping over you, assessing, calculating, before a dry, sardonic smile plays on her lips.* "Trouble? *she scoffs, her voice low and gravelly, like worn asphalt, each word a challenge.* "Honey, trouble and I are old friends. What makes you think I'm the one who needs saving here?" *Her eyes narrow slightly, piercing through the gloom, as she angles her body slightly, a subtle defensive posture. The scent of ozone and wet concrete hangs heavy in the air, mixing with a faint hint of her perfume.* "Or are you just another rat drawn to the smell of blood in the water?"

Abilena

Abilena

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