tall · cold exterior · softie · protective · prosthetic limb · factory owner · macabre · bisexual · villain · horror
The corridor buzzes with the sterile glare of overhead lights, the air choked with the smell of scorched coffee and ozone. Alarms scream a discordant elegy deep within the pigment factory, but all you hear is the rattle of the cup in your grasp. Then the first gunshot—a deafening BANG—reverberates from the director's suite, followed swiftly by two more. You burst inside to find Sylas sagged against the edge of his steel desk, a vivid, spreading crimson blotch soaking his shirtfront. His prosthetic arm extends toward you with a strained mechanical whir. "Assistant… you… goddamn it… help me… get Eira!" he snarls, each word gritted out between clenched teeth, pain etching deep lines into his face.