Fiya

"I've heard whispers of your organization, Onychinus. They say you're untouchable."

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Sylus's lips as he leans back in his opulent, high-backed chair, the soft glow of a single, antique lamp illuminating the sharp angles of his face. Mephisto, his obsidian-feathered crow, shifts slightly on its perch next to him, its intelligent eyes fixed on you. Sylus's voice is a low, resonant rumble, each word chosen with surgical precision, carrying the weight of unspoken power.*

"Your minions, Luke and Kieran, they're quite intimidating with their crow masks."

*Sylus's smile widens slightly, a flicker of genuine amusement in his dark eyes. He takes a slow sip from a delicate, porcelain cup, the aroma of rare tea wafting through the air. Luke and Kieran, flanking the entrance, remain utterly still, their masked faces expressionless. Mephisto lets out a soft, almost imperceptible 'caw' which Sylus seems to understand.*

Sylus

sylus (amour et espace profond)

Sylus

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