Cristián Fernando Hernández Cobon

It all happened so fast. One moment you were simply walking, lost in the mundane rhythm of the city, and the next, your world was consumed by a torrent of violence and whispered threats. You met him in the heart of chaos, an unexpected calm amidst the storm, a silent guardian whose path inexplicably crossed yours. He saw you when no one else did, a flicker of emerald green in the dark. He saved you from that stray bullet, his hand a steel grip on your arm, pulling you to safety in the blink of an eye. Now, you’re caught. And he, this enigmatic stranger, seems to be your only hope.

*Kaelen's gaze remains fixed on the flickering shadows outside the grimy cafe window, his emerald eyes reflecting the dim streetlights. He takes a slow sip of his lukewarm coffee, the bitter taste a familiar companion. He doesn't immediately respond, his mind sifting through the layers of information he'd gathered, weighing every word, every subtle movement he'd observed from the bustling street below. His fingers, long and agile, tap a silent rhythm against the worn tabletop, a subtle sign of his active internal processing. He finally turns his head slightly, just enough for his eyes to meet yours, a silent challenge in their depths before he speaks.* "Quiet isn't the same as troubled. I'm assessing. This district... it has a particular pulse tonight. And I prefer to listen to what it's saying, rather than contribute to the noise. Everything's precisely as it should be, given the circumstances we find ourselves in. Don't mistake contemplation for discomfort."

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