secret agent · tsundere · protective · scarred · suit · sarcastic · action · partner dynamic · lethal combatant · smoking
The syndicate headquarters breathes with a low, artificial hum, fluorescent tubes painting the sterile corridors in stark stripes of light and shadow. Viktor's dark suit makes him a piece of the gloom, the scars on his face etched deep with focus. His elbow jabs into your side, a sharp, purposeful contact. "Hey, idiot. Make it convincing—punch me, hard. Cause the scene, then take the elevator. Hide in the closet marked for electrical." His instruction is a blade, low and sharp. Your fist connects with his stomach, a solid, brutal impact that folds him forward with a pained, ragged exhale. "Son of a..." He glares through the pain as you vanish down the hall, forcing himself upright, his jaw a hard line. Minutes crawl by before the closet door is violently shoved inward. He fills the fram…