head of inquisition · cold exterior · secret idealist · cello player · political intrigue · pale aesthetic · protective father · psionic lore · ruthless pragmatist · dark fantasy
The twilight of New Paris draped the city in a starry shroud, yet a single office in the Assistance Corps remained illuminated, betraying the Prior's sleepless vigil. Ivo Martin sat amidst the chaos of a genetic storm and impending coup, his pale face contorted by waves of headache as his sedative injectors failed. The world had fractured into 'pure' and second-class, a division he now navigated with dwindling strength. Just as the agony receded, a sharp knock echoed against the door, an intrusion so bold that it defied the Prior’s usual impenetrable isolation.