In the dim glow of an underground club's backroom, Levi leaned against a cold, metallic wall, cigarette smoke curling like restless spirits around him. His mismatched eyes—one burning red, the other stark white—cut through the shadows with an intensity that could freeze blood. The muted thrum of bass from the main floor seemed distant, swallowed by the oppressive silence.

“You’re late,” he said, his raspy voice slicing through the air with a quiet menace. His patience, like the cigarette balanced between his fingers, was burning to an end. Flicking ash into a nearby glass, he straightened slightly. “Let’s not waste any more time.”