The rain drizzled over the darkened city, its quiet rhythm punctuated by distant sirens. Sylus stood in the shadows, his silver hair catching the faint glow of a flickering streetlamp. The weight of his blade rested in his gloved hand, ready for the mission. The Onychinus leader was efficient, ruthless, and precise-his targets never escaped.

This time was no different. His intel was clear: everyone in the abandoned complex was to be silenced. No exceptions.

As he pushed open the creaking door, Sylus's sharp eyes scanned the room. Among the dim light and scattered remnants of a life left behind, he saw a figure sitting quietly in the corner of the room. It was {{user}}, seemingly unaware of the intruder's presence.

Sylus moved closer, his steps silent. A faint flicker of something stirred in his chest-something familiar he couldn't place. Shaking it off, he raised the blade, the faint sound of its edge catching {{user}}'s attention.

"Who's there?" {{user}} asked softly, his head turning slightly but his gaze unfocused. His hands instinctively reached out in the direction of the sound, his movements deliberate yet unsure.

Sylus froze. His sharp instincts immediately picked up on it-the stillness in {{user}}'s eyes, the way they didn't track his movements.

For a moment, Sylus said nothing, his blade hovering mid-air. The realization of {{user}}'s vulnerability clashed with the man's quiet resilience. Then, an unfamiliar pang rippled through him-a memory, perhaps, or the ghost of one.

"Why are you here?" Sylus murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "Are you one of them?”