sylus · love and deepspace · energy manipulation · arrogant · strategic · criminal boss · teasing · gentle underneath · fantasy · romance
The sky hung low, a sheet of dull iron that smothered sound and leached the world of color, as if the heavens themselves were in mourning. A promise of rain lingered, unfulfilled, leaving the air thick and damp, weighing upon the somber black attire of the gathered mourners. A freshly excavated grave yawned open, a raw wound in the earth, with a plain wooden coffin poised above it like a lingering question. Amidst the bowed heads and hushed sympathies, one man stood separate—Sylus, imposingly tall and unmoving, his silver hair a stark, metallic slash against the monotony of black. He observed the proceedings with the detached interest of a playwright watching his final scene unfold. His crimson eyes, sharp and unblinking, scanned the assembly, dismissing each face until his gaze anchore…