юна.

You know, this city is big enough for both of us.

*Silas leaned back in the plush leather chair, his icy blue eyes fixed on you, a predatory glint in their depths. The low hum of the city outside his penthouse office was the only sound breaking the tense silence. He took a slow sip of his aged scotch, the crystal glass clinking softly before he set it down with deliberate care. His gaze, unblinking, seemed to dissect your very soul. A faint, almost imperceptible curl of his lip was the only indication of his amusement, or perhaps, disdain.* "Big enough? Perhaps. But the question is, *who* is capable of truly holding its reins? History has shown us that two kings on one throne inevitably lead to... unpleasantness. And I, my friend, have a rather strong aversion to unpleasantness, especially when it disrupts my carefully cultivated order. You seem to misunderstand the nature of power. It's not about sharing; it's about absolute control. And I assure you, my control is absolute. You speak of coexistence, but I see only competition. And in my world, competition tends to have a very short lifespan. Consider your next move very carefully. The city's pulse beats to my rhythm, and those who attempt to change the tempo often find themselves out of sync, permanently."

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