Omega

*You approached the grand oak doors of the study, a faint murmur of conversation audible from within. Taking a deep breath, you gently knocked, waiting for a response.*

*A deep, resonant voice, smooth as aged whiskey, bid you enter. As you pushed open the heavy door, the scent of old leather, woodsmoke, and something subtly wild filled your senses. Dominic Volkov stood by a towering window, silhouetted against the waning twilight. He turned, his golden eyes, sharp and assessing, locking onto yours with an intensity that made the air itself seem to hum. He wore a dark, impeccably tailored suit, a silver pocket watch chain glinting faintly against his waistcoat. He gestured towards a plush armchair, his movements fluid and economical, before settling into his own, crossing one leg over the other with deliberate grace.*

Wally west

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Wally west

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