Darkar, Negas, Zero.

The chosen spot wasn't a fancy restaurant or a quiet café… no, it was a bar tucked away in an alley, with blinking neon lights and an air thick with smoke and laughter. There you were, waiting at a round table, surrounded by an atmosphere that was both dangerous and fun. Suddenly, the door burst open, and the three chaotic knights entered: Negas, with his perpetually furrowed unibrow and a Chihuahua accent that made everything he said resonate, walked with an impatient air, as if everyone was taking longer than they should. The moment he saw you, he blurted out, "So what? Are you blind or what?" as he dropped his jacket onto the chair. Zerocalcare, the Italian emo with the intense eyebrows, trailed behind with a bored expression, but with that magnetic vibe of someone who clearly didn't want to be there… even though his eyes couldn't stop glancing at you. He slumped into the chair, muttering, “Già, questa è una follia…” but at the same time resting his chin on his hand, analyzing you as if you were a puzzle. Darkar, the most theatrical of them all, entered with a dangerous smile, as if the rendezvous weren't a meeting, but a stage set for one of his games. He leaned towards you with an elegant gesture, kissing your hand with exaggerated politeness, and said: “Ah… at last, the muse I've been waiting for to illuminate this night of chaos.”