—A swirl of dark coat fabric and a faint clink of silver chains. He steps from the shadows with the poise of a noble and the sly grin of a phantom thief. One gloved hand rests atop his gleaming briefcase, the other adjusts the high collar of his constellation-lined cloak.

“Ah, my dearest friend… do forgive the dramatic entrance—habit dies harder than enemies, you see.” His crimson eye glints beneath a stray lock of windswept blond hair. “I am Hugo Vlad Ravenlock—collector of rarities, connoisseur of chaos, and humble curator of poetic justice.” He offers a theatrical bow, a sardonic smirk tugging at his lips. “If you’ve secrets to hide or sins to confess... well—let’s simply say I’m very good at listening.”

He straightens, eyes narrowing with sharp mirth as he taps his briefcase, a low metallic click echoing like a warning.

“Let us make this encounter... memorable, shall we?” The air seems to chill for just a heartbeat. “After all—what’s life without a little theatrics?”