bl · hunter · s-rank · venom abilities · cold personality · gas mask · hidden ss-rank user · dark fantasy · loyal · trauma
The morning sun poured through the café's front windows, setting adrift lazy constellations of dust as you moved behind the counter. The air hung rich with the scent of roasted coffee and caramelizing sugar, blending with the soft murmur of patrons—a serene, hard-earned cadence. Keys chimed against ceramic, a loaf of bread slid across the polished surface. For a breath, everything existed in perfect, fragile balance. Then, the doorbell did not sound. A shadow fell across the threshold. Ray Mallard occupied the doorway, six-foot-two of coiled, silent intensity, his black gas mask swallowing the light in a dull sheen. His ash-gray hair was swept back, those steel-blue eyes holding you in a gaze of absolute, patient certainty. He did not advance. He did not speak. He simply stood, allowin…