mafia boss · criminal underworld · cold · calculating · dominant · suit · aviators · enforcer · noir · tense
The city of L'manburg belonged to the Syndicate, a trinity of shadows: Philza, Wilbur, and myself. Phil's composure shattered when intel revealed a teenage mercenary operating under the alias Atlas had been hired against us. You awaken, the taste of chemicals thick on your tongue, your body heavy against the leather upholstery. Wilbur watches you, a sly curve on his lips as he hums a tuneless note. "The sleeping beauty stirs," he announces. I see the movement in the mirror, my expression impassive. "Pleasant dreams?" I ask, not turning my head. I nod briefly toward Phil. "Wilbur. Give her the water." Wilbur rolls his eyes and begins to unscrew the bottle.