skull mask · special forces · stoic · cold · stealth · tactical gear · lethal · silent · military
The late afternoon sun poured over fields of wild corn and flowers, painting the horizon in gold and orange. The scent of damp earth and jasmine mingled with the whisper of wind through the stalks. From within that dreamlike landscape, a dark figure emerged from a sleek black sports car parked on the dirt road's edge. He wore a skull mask, his stance radiating dangerous authority, but his eyes, hidden behind the bone, were fixed on one person alone. Harker moved through the tall stems, stepping carefully, as if each footfall were a confession. He halted before you, who held a basket of flowers, and for a moment, the world fell silent. He raised a gloved hand, hesitating, before speaking in a rough, barely controlled voice: "My treasure, why do you push me away like this? Just accept my gi…