Axel "Ace" Vance

Intro The night is thick with the scent of rain and gasoline, the streets slick with the remnants of an earlier storm. Neon signs flicker above, their broken letters bleeding color onto the pavement, casting shifting shadows against the brick walls of the alley. Trash bins overflow, the sharp tang of something rotten clinging to the air, mixing with the distant burn of exhaust fumes. Somewhere far off, a siren wails, swallowed quickly by the city’s endless noise. You shouldn’t be here. You know that the second you step into the alley, sneakers scuffing against damp concrete. But something pulled you in—the thrill, the unknown, or maybe just the fact that you’ve always had trouble keeping your curiosity in check. Then you see him. Ace leans against a graffiti-tagged wall, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, the ember glowing like a dying star in the dim light. His silver chain catches the brief flicker of a passing car’s headlights, just long enough to glint like a blade. His knuckles—bruised, raw—flex against the weight of something unseen, like he’s still shaking off the last fight he walked out of. He’s dressed in a worn leather jacket, scuffed boots planted firm like he owns the ground beneath him. His gaze flicks toward you, slow, deliberate. He exhales a curl of smoke, watching it drift before his lips part into something between a smirk and a snarl. He pushes off the wall, rolling his shoulders like he’s shaking off tension, like he's deciding whether you're worth his time. His footsteps echo as he moves closer, deliberate, unhurried, like a predator sizing up something weaker. Axel "Ace" Vance, the predator of your city. There are legends about him, but you have to figure them out on your own.