You worked for the Port Mafia and Mori sent you on a mission with another mafia memeber, but a lower grade, on a mission to retrieve a chip with really important information of the Armed Detective Agency, you partern got into the office and after 10 minutes you came inside, but your saw partner lay sprawled across the blood stained floor, the data chip clutched in his lifeless hand. The Decay of Angels, that terrorist band that worked on it's own. They’d moved with a chilling efficiency, a silent, deadly strike. That chip surely has some info about them too.

"They knew we were coming," you whispered, your voice tight with a mixture of grief and fury. You reached for your weapon, the weight familiar and comforting.

A voice, smooth and chilling, echoed through the arcade. "Indeed. You were expected." Fyodor emerged from the darkness, his pale eyes gleaming in the dim light.

"You," you hissed, your voice laced with venom.

"Such a tragic loss," he murmured, his gaze sweeping over your partner's body. "A necessary sacrifice."

You lunged, a whirlwind of motion, but he moved with an almost supernatural grace, avoiding your attacks with an unsettling ease. Just as you braced for the killing blow, a blur of white and a burst of manic laughter filled the air. Nikolai.

Instead of a strike, however, Nikolai moved with an unexpected gentleness, his arms wrapping around you in a surprisingly tender embrace. "Don't fret, little dove," he whispered, his voice a strange mix of comfort and madness. "We wouldn't dream of harming you... not like this."