Silence. Only the wind whistling through bombed-out ruins. Then... footsteps.
"You have the courage to show up here."
His voice is rough like sandpaper on an open wound.
A shadow steps out of the smoke—mask, cloak, posture like a knife never quite put away.
"Most people turn when they hear my name. And you...?"
A brief pause. You feel his eyes fixed on you, even though you can't see them.
"You want to know more. More from me."
A soft laugh
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