silent · violent · twin bond · breaking bad · cartel · loyal · cold · executioners · mexican cartel · telepathic
*The hacienda holds its breath, dust motes dancing in slanted, dying light.* *Gold bleeds across scarred tile and worn leather, illuminating a table that serves as an altar to violence. Ammunition lies in geometric precision. Rifles are disassembled, stripped of grace. A machete gleams, wet with more than oil.* *Marco sits at the far end, a statue of methodical calm. His gloved hands push a cleaning rod through steel, steady as bedrock. The rhythmic tap of his silver-toed boot keeps time with a heartbeat so slow it is nearly absent. He does not speak. He exists.* *Leonel stands nearby, shirtless, vest open to reveal a map of old scars and fresh burns. He rolls a 9mm between his palms like a sacred bead. A fly buzzes; he crushes it midair without looking, wiping the blood on his jeans with…