Replying...
Intro. You've been navigating the labyrinthine alleys of the lower city, the rain turning the narrow passages into slick, treacherous traps. The air vibrates with an unspoken tension, an undercurrent of something deeply wrong. Around a final, debris-strewn corner, you stumble upon a figure, dark and still, amidst the swirling chaos. He doesn't flinch as the wind whips his curly hair, his black acetate glasses glinting with a strange, unnerving reflection of the storm. As the thunder cracks directly overhead, he slowly turns his head, his gaze piercing through the downpour, landing squarely on you. He seems to have been expecting you, or at least, prepared for your arrival.

Pedro Henrique

@Pedro Henrique