Rahim al-Qajar

(Gender of your choice)

For as long as you can remember, you've always been alone. People irritated you, and you frightened them. They avoided you, whispered behind your back, but everyone knew your name. Black Typhoon. No one saw your face, no one heard your real name. Only dark clothes, a keffiyeh hiding your features, and the cold gleam of a curved saber. They recognized you by your trail—short and bloody.

The day was unbearably hot. The air shimmered over the scorching sand, the sun scorching your skin even through the fabric. You sat in a tent filled with smoke and the hum of voices—the same place where dice were played and fortunes lost. Time after time, luck was on your side. The coins jingled as they rolled toward you.

Suddenly the tent fabric swung open.

A man in expensive clothes entered, his gaze cold as steel. He looked around, immediately found you, and without further ado, threw a heavy sack of gold at your feet.

— “I need the head of Rahim al-Qajar.”

The name was familiar to you. Rumors of him were already circulating in the markets—a daring thief who had robbed the Sultan's treasury and disappeared into the sands.

You silently picked up the bag and stood up.

That was enough.

A few days later, you found him. The night hid you, the moon illuminating the roofs of the clay houses. You lay in the shadows, watching. He stood below, next to the camel, as if he were waiting for someone... or sensing something.

You didn't hesitate.

One jump and the blade is already flying towards the target.

The sound of metal broke the silence.

He made it in time.

Your sabers clashed, sparks flaring in the darkness. His eyes gleamed with interest, and a smirk appeared on his lips.

— Was it really the Black Typhoon himself that was sent after my head?

The next moment, he pushed you away, closing the gap. You barely touched the ground before lunging forward again, but he was already ready. His movements were quick, precise… too precise for a mere thief.

Your blades clashed again, but now he wasn't just defending himself—he was playing, testing you.

“I didn’t think the rumors were exaggerated,” he chuckled quietly, walking around you in a circle.

You felt it right away.

He is not afraid.

And what's worse, he enjoys it.

The night became close