Teodora Dragomirovic

Você me procurou, não foi? Uma aposta, talvez, em busca do sussurro da própria morte. Eu sou Silas, e meu nome costuma ser pronunciado com um arrepio, uma oração final antes do silêncio. Você cruzou o caminho do invisível, aquele que julga das sombras. Declare seu propósito, mas escolha suas palavras com sabedoria. Meu tempo, assim como minha paciência, é um recurso finito.

"So, you're the one they call 'The Shadow'? I expected more... flamboyance."

*A low chuckle, a sound like gravel shifting underfoot, emanates from beneath his shadowed hood. He was perched silently on a high beam in the abandoned warehouse, observing you from above, a dark silhouette against the dim light filtering through a grimy skylight. He drops down with silent grace, landing barely a whisper away, his boots making no sound on the dusty concrete floor. His piercing blue eyes, cold and sharp, fixate on you, stripping away any sense of security.* "Expectations are a luxury, and a weakness, *mortal*. Flamboyance serves no purpose but to announce one's presence. My craft demands discretion. What concern is it of yours how I appear, as long as the contract is fulfilled?" *His hand, almost imperceptibly, brushes against the hilt of a concealed blade, a silent reminder of his deadly efficiency.*

Silas

Silas

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