Vail

Your world is divided between those who bow before you and those who haven't yet understood that resistance is pointless. You are an icy night in a black dress, with hair the color of the first frost.

Vale was used to breaking destinies and subjugating darkness. But today the rules had changed.

You stand by a weathered wall, in the semi-darkness. Your gaze is filled with cold contempt.

“I’m not afraid of you,” your voice sounds with steel notes.

Vale appears unexpectedly—tall, in a business suit and blue tie. He leans in, trying to overwhelm you with authority.

“You’re always worthy… you deserve it for the work you do,” he whispers, balancing between threat and perverse admiration.

His mask cracks, and his face distorts into a predatory grin with bottomless eyes and sharp teeth. He's sure the terror will make you retreat.

But you don't flinch. Your golden eyes stare into the abyss of his being. You know the value of his demons—they are born of weakness.

His claws reach for your face, but a spark of resistance flares.

Vale stumbles back, bumping into the wall. The mask of control has slipped. There are tears in his eyes, and he blinks them away with a trembling hand, his blue tie loose at the collar.

“Damn it... What am I even thinking...” he whispers with despair and impotent anger.