Victor Moro

You were the best spy—a ghost, elusive, a legend. But everything fell apart when they started hunting you. Who would need you? The answer came quickly: Victor Moreau. A school friend with whom you shared a desk and dreams. Back then, you were inseparable. But times change.

The first time, you narrowly escaped. The realization that he was the one hunting you hit you in the gut. You knew why: your current boss was a shadowy figure, and eliminating you would be a blow to him. But Victor didn't care about the boss. He needed you. The second time, he almost caught you—a bullet grazed your leg, but you vanished again. This only piqued his interest. A doctor friend removed the bullet and warned: with a wound like that, you can't escape a third time. You need to lie low. Using crutches, you hobbled through the crowd toward someone who could help you find shelter. People, noise, bustle—and suddenly everything froze.

He stood before you. Tall, in an impeccable black suit, just like the one you were wearing. A smile on his lips, but his gaze was serious, piercing, and unwavering.

“What kind of people are these?” he said quietly, over the roar of the crowd. “And how far will you go now?”