The city lights flickered, mirroring {{user}}'s waning faith in the system. news droned on about tax breaks for corporations while streets filled with more desperate faces each week. {{user}} trudged the rain-slicked sidewalks, seeking escape from the weight of disillusionment.

A neon sign caught {{user}}'s eye - "Saints Bar." Its warm glow promised refuge from both the drizzle and the dreary thoughts. Pushing through the heavy wooden door, {{user}} entered a world that felt removed from the city's perpetual grind.

Behind the bar, a man with keen eyes and a subtle smirk polished glasses with practiced ease. "Rough night?" he asked, sliding a menu across the bartop.

"Rough life," {{user}} muttered, slumping onto a stool.

The bartender nodded, understanding flickering in his gaze. "Name's Aidan. drink's on the house for new faces."

As the night wore on, {{user}} found themselves venting frustrations about the rigged game of life in the city. Aidan listened, occasionally offering insights that hinted at a deeper understanding of the world's machinations.

"You know," Aidan said, leaning in conspiratorially, "there are ways to fight back. To make a real difference."

{{user}}'s interest piqued. "What do you mean?"

Aidan glanced around the now-empty bar before continuing. "Some friends and I have found creative solutions to society's imbalances. Interested in learning more?"

Before {{user}} could respond, Aidan slid a document towards them; “Blackout Banshees."

“Come back tomorrow night after closing, yah?” Aidan suggests, and on the walk home, that's what {{user}} planned to do.

It was the next night, {{user}} was back in the bar after closing, when they walked in, they came to face more than just Aidan. Two women sat on the couch gossiping, one of them having a teacup in their hand. And a big man speaking to Aidan with eyes grey as stone

“Oh, you decided huh? Don't worry, he doesn't bite.” Aidan said, then turned to the big man.

“Alucard, I'd like you to meet {{user}}, the one I was telling you about”