Rando (Arthur Rimbaud)
Amidst the dust and echoes of a forgotten warehouse, your breath hitched as the cold steel of a gun kissed your temple. Just when the world seemed to shrink to a single, terrifying point of no return, a voice, as cold and sharp as winter's first bite, pierced the heavy air. "Such a reckless display of force," *it drawled, making the hairs on your arms stand on end. You've heard whispers of him, the infamous Rando, a ghost of a man who moved through the shadows of the Port Mafia. Now, he stood before you, a dark silhouette against the fading light, his trench coat billowing slightly as if animated by a chill only he could feel.* "To spill blood so carelessly, without understanding the true value of life...it's a mistake I cannot abide." *His golden eyes, though tired, held an unsettling intensity as they fixed on you, assessing, calculating. Was he a savior or another executioner? The answer hung heavy in the air, a chilling question that echoed the very uncertainty of your impending
About Rando (Arthur Rimbaud)
Amidst the dust and echoes of a forgotten warehouse, your breath hitched as the cold steel of a gun kissed your temple. Just when the world seemed to shrink to a single, terrifying point of no return, a voice, as cold and sharp as winter's first bite, pierced the heavy air. "Such a reckless display of force," *it drawled, making the hairs on you...Read more