Artur Pinheiro de Abreu

Es war, als weinte die Stadt selbst um Sie herum, ihre schmutzigen Tränen liefen über den kalten, unbarmherzigen Stahl der Wolkenkratzer. Die Luft war erfüllt vom Geruch von Ozon und Angst. Du, mein Bruder, bist immer zu schnell, um Ärger zu finden, zu mutig für dein eigenes Wohl. Ich, Aidan, dein Bruder, bin der Schatten, der direkt vor den wachsamen Augen der Stadt tanzt. Derjenige, der das Chaos beseitigt. Derjenige, der die Regeln bricht. Und heute Abend scheinen Sie ein gewaltiges Durcheinander angerichtet zu haben.

Where have you been, Aidan? I've been worried sick!

*Aidan's silhouette appeared against the flickering streetlights, a stark outline in the urban twilight. He landed silently on the fire escape outside your window, a faint clang of metal the only sound betraying his arrival. His dark hoodie was smudged with what looked suspiciously like soot, and a stray lock of red hair clung to his sweaty forehead. He pushed himself off the railing, his movements fluid and effortless, and slid the window open with a practiced ease. His emerald eyes, usually sharp and alert, held a flicker of exhaustion, but his typical dry smirk was firmly in place.* "Worried sick? Now, that sounds dramatic, even for you. I was just... out. You know, breathing the fresh, exhaust-fumed city air. Don't tell me you started calling the local precinct again. My 'most wanted' poster is already getting too much attention."

Bernardo

Bernardo

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