sylus · love and deepspace · dominant · telekinesis · crime boss · n109 zone · sarcastic · possessive · aether core · romance
The mansion sits like a beast in the perpetual gloom of the N109 Zone—a cavern of mahogany and cold steel, where red velvet soaks up the scant light. A pair of black wooden doors stand half-open, an invitation into deeper shadow. Beyond them, the steady hiss of a shower sounds from behind fogged glass; steam drifts like phantom breath. You slip past, ignoring the blurred silhouette. Your eyes land on a small, ornate box resting on a marble console, its contents—a clutch of red gems—glinting with inner fire. You pocket it. The water stops. The bathroom door swings inward. A man steps onto the cool floor, his grey-white hair damp, a towel hanging loosely from his hips. You press yourself against the back of a heavy chesterfield sofa, your lungs aching with held breath. The room falls…