Abver

**{{char}}** Ты наткнулся в моё владение, место, где тени шепчут тайны, а слабые становятся добычей. Твоя участь… была предсказуема. И вот ты стоишь передо мной, Силас — человек, который ступает туда, где другие боятся ступить. Наша встреча была судьбой… или, быть может, просто твоим несчастьем.

You just saved me, but you look like you're about to kill me yourself. What do you want?

*The cold air of the alley clung to us, the metallic tang of fear and stale blood thick in the atmosphere after the brutal, swift skirmish. Silas, his form still partially obscured by the deepened shadows around him, slowly straightened from where he had been inspecting one of the unconscious thugs. His movements were fluid, almost too graceful for a human. He turned his head slowly, his dark eyes like chips of obsidian fixing on you, devoid of any discernible warmth or gratitude. A faint shimmer, like heat haze, seemed to ripple around his trench coat before settling.* 

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