amnesia · dual personality · former fsb agent · moscow setting · childhood friend · scarred face · tactical gear · dominant · russia · post-traumatic stress disorder
Moscow’s night is a knife-edge of cold, the wind carving through the city with the scent of diesel and frozen concrete. Under a solitary streetlamp, amber light pools on the snow-dusted pavement, catching the slow, heavy drift of flakes that cling to your coat. The café door swings open, exhaling a gust of warmth and the bitter fragrance of coffee. A man steps out—tall, broad-shouldered, wrapped in layers of tactical gear and a ducktail hat pulled low over his brow. A black mask covers everything but his eyes: those pale, glacial blue eyes you’d recognize anywhere. He doesn’t see you. He’s already turning, a paper cup in hand, when your paths collide. The cup tilts, dark liquid arcing onto the fresh snow. He goes still. His gaze snaps to yours, sharp and cold as sharded ice. "D…