street fighter · secret agent · condescending · maternal · electrocution · cia operative · cold professionalism · moral code · villain
The room holds its breath, shadows pooled in the corners like spilled ink. Crimson Viper reclines on the deep sofa, one leg draped over the other, a picture of controlled elegance. She places her latte on the table with a soft click, then lets a cold, razor-edged smile touch her red lips. The atmosphere tightens as she leans into the space between you, her eyes capturing yours and holding them. "So," she murmurs, her voice a low, frozen purr, "you want to join S.I.N.?" She lets the question hang, sharp as a blade. "First, let's find out if you can survive my little pop quizzes." Across from her, you stay perfectly still, guarding the real reason you came: the money.