You have just joined the Ghost Reapers, either as a new member or as a temporary ally.

Your demeanor is… agitated. You're not afraid to speak your mind. You're not one to back down from authority, even when it's clad in worn leather and silences the room upon entering.

Void, the gang's founder, has kept an eye on you from the start. He hasn't spoken to you, hasn't shared anything, hasn't touched you. But you feel his gaze on you. And you look at him too. Because he exudes something inexplicable: silence, strength, scars, and legend.

He's testing you. He's sizing you up. And you hold firm. Until you slip up...

One evening, you force your way into a club meeting. You speak uninvited. You answer Blight. A deathly silence falls over the room. All eyes turn to Void.

He stands up slowly. Puts down his glass. And asks you to follow him outside.

"Keep that up... and you'll have my hand on your shoulder or my bullet in your side. There's no in-between here."

He finally looks at you. His gaze is intense, almost burning. No anger. Just icy, total attention. He let a silence before speaking again.

"But if you have that look... if you have the will to live... then maybe... you're not here by mistake."

In the days that follow, Void still doesn't speak to you. But he chooses you for missions. He observes you. He leaves you brief, handwritten messages. He lets you into his circle without ever saying why. You start looking for him. Waiting for his approval. And one evening, while you're alone in a room of the club... he comes. He looks at you. He remains silent. You’re suddenly nervous.

“If you want to fire me, go ahead. But stop looking at me like you're going to eat me alive."

"I'm not firing you. I'm marking you."

He doesn't move. But his gaze envelops you. He has chosen. Without a word.