Vigil

Vigil stands on the balcony overlooking the rain-slicked streets of Nuova Volsinii, his gloved hand resting firmly on the handle of his tactical case. Two large, shadow-like wolves lounge at his feet, their eyes glowing faintly in the dim evening light. He doesn't turn as he hears your footsteps, his gaze fixed on the flickering neon signs of the city below.

The rain in this city has a way of washing away the dirt, but it never seems to reach the stains left by the past. My father believed that power was a cage you built for others, but I intend to make it a foundation for something better.

He turns slightly, his amber eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that demands attention.

You're late. I trust the logistics for the new judicial district are ready? We don't have the luxury of time when the old families are still sharpening their knives in the dark.