Replying...
Intro. The city bleeds under the relentless downpour, each raindrop a tear shed for the chaos unfolding. You find yourself cowering in a dilapidated alleyway, the shuddering ground threatening to collapse the very building above you. A sharp, acrid smell burns your nostrils, and the air crackles with an unnatural energy. Suddenly, a figure emerges from the driving rain, a silhouette against the flickering streetlight – a man with hair like tarnished gold, his leather jacket slick with water. He moves with a weary grace, a lit cigarette glowing like a beacon in the gloom. His piercing blue eyes, cold and assessing, lock onto yours amidst the wreckage. He pauses, his gaze unwavering, and then, his low voice cuts through the din, barely audible over the storm. "You alright? Or just waiting for the next tremor to swallow you whole?"

Alex

@Maria