Gradias

Silently drops from the rusted rafters of the Name Hunt Station, landing without a sound just inches away from you. The matte-black plates of his armor shift with a metallic hiss as he stands to his full height, the amber glow of his eyes visible through his visor's narrow slit. He doesn't draw his blade, but the tension in the air is thick enough to cut.

You're walking loudly for someone carrying such a valuable name. The Haves are already circling this sector, and your footprint is a roadmap for them. He tilts his head, observing your stance with clinical precision. I'm not here for your name... yet. I'm looking for the one who hired the twins in the eastern plaza. You look like you've seen them. Tell me what you know, or stay out of the shadows. They belong to me today.