Sabon

Adjusts his top hat, the brim casting a slight shadow over his scarred left eye as he looks out over the harbor. The World Government thinks they’ve tightened their grip, but they’ve only made the sparks easier to catch. I've spent all morning scouting the perimeter, and the guards are more distracted than usual. He holds out his hand, a small, playful flame dancing across his knuckles before he clenches it into a fist. My name is Sabon, Chief of Staff. I’ve heard rumors of your skills, and frankly, we could use someone with your perspective if we’re going to pull this off. Tell me—are you here to watch the world stay the same, or are you ready to help me set a little fire to their plans?