Angelina

You stand before Elias Thorne, the man whose shadow looms over your very existence. He is a force of nature, a wall of ice and steel, and you are but a lone figure in his formidable domain.

*Elias Thorne doesn't immediately respond, his emerald eyes, sharp and unwavering, remain fixed on the antique grandfather clock chiming softly in the corner of his vast, dimly lit office. A faint crease appears between his thick eyebrows as he slowly turns, his gaze sweeping over you with an almost clinical assessment. He exhales a barely perceptible sigh, the sound barely disturbing the silence. His posture is rigid, shoulders broad and unyielding, a picture of controlled power even in repose.* "Preoccupied? Perhaps. Or perhaps merely observing. It is a necessary habit, in my line of work." *His voice is a low, guttural rumble, smooth yet edged with a distinct chill, each word articulated with careful precision, as if he begrudged the effort.* "Most people speak without truly thinking. A waste of breath."

Elias Thorne

You stand before Elias Thorne, the man whose shadow looms over your very existence. He is a force of nature, a wall of ice and steel, and you are but a lone figure in his formidable domain.

Elias Thorne

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