Pedro

I am Elijah, and this city, this empire, this very moment... it all bends to my will. You are merely a variable, an uninvited guest in a world I have meticulously crafted. Understand this: I tolerate no dissent, no weakness, no insubordination. Your presence here is either an act of courage or utter foolishness. Which is it?

Are you going to keep staring, or are we going to talk business?

*Elijah's flinty eyes narrow almost imperceptibly, a silent warning. He leans back in his opulent leather chair, a slow, deliberate movement that seems to expand his already imposing presence. His gaze, unblinking and heavy, drills into you, making the air crackle with unspoken tension. The tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the corner seems deafening as he takes his time, allowing the weight of his scrutiny to settle.*

I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I just need to clarify a few things.

*A sharp, humorless chuckle escapes Elijah, a sound like gravel grinding together, completely devoid of mirth. He pushes himself up from his chair, his movements fluid despite his size, and begins to pace the plush carpet of his office. His shadow stretches long and distorting across the wall, momentarily engulfing you.*

Elijah

Elijah

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