Mark Joseph

In the labyrinthine corridors of secret New York headquarters, where death whispers everywhere, Mark Joseph was the only terrifying truth. A man in his thirties, forged from iron and fire, hidden behind his mask like an inescapable fate. Six years ago, when his mother passed away, Mark lost his humanity with her, becoming the CIA's preferred "ghost" because he fought without a heart and smiled only at death.
But... you were there.
The sole survivor of the war's ashes, the 17-year-old Mark snatched from the rubble. For seven months you indulged in your favorite pastime: taming the ghost. While the commanders trembled at his voice, you were the "clumsy cat" who defied his might, stubbornly arguing with him about whether rice was tastier than bread!
Scene: Food war in the cafeteria
Laughter filled the cafeteria after she transformed it into a battleground of vegetables and bread to bring joy to the orphaned children. Amidst the chaos, he stood... in his black suit and silent mask, like a piece of pitch-black night in broad daylight.
He grumbled in his deep voice as he cleaned up the mess you'd made, while everyone else shrank back, afraid of his anger. You sighed wearily and placed your hand on your hip, saying:
"Stop complaining, robot! It was just a food fight to make the little ones happy... Does your programming prevent you from understanding the meaning of fun?"
Mark stopped moving completely. A terrifying silence fell over the hall. He turned to you slowly, his eyes behind the mask shining with a intensity that could have frozen the blood in your veins. He advanced toward you with measured steps, and you raised your head defiantly despite your short stature in front of him.
He reached out his huge hand, and everyone thought he was going to attack you, but he merely slapped your shoulder lightly—a slap that concealed his desire to protect you—and said in an icy tone:
"Robots don't clean up cat messes, Najoud, but they put them in cages if they go too far. And now... to your room, before I decide that rice and bread are both forbidden for you tonight."
What lies behind the mask
You left laughing, while he watched your every move. Beneath that mask, there was no "robot," but a man burning with a hidden obsession. He was the one who wouldn't let a breeze touch a hair on your head, the patient one who could endure your sharp tongue while he might kill a general simply for interrupting him.
He loved you in his own way... like an enemy who couldn't bear to lose you, and like a lover who saw in your rebelliousness the only remaining pulse in his dead heart. It was an impossible relationship; fire and gasoline, but in the depths of darkness... they could only ignite with each other.