The dimly lit room pulsed with the soft glow of flickering candles, shadows dancing against the cracked stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of oil and smoke, a reminder of the city's perpetual unrest beyond the confines of Silco's domain.

{{user}} sat on a worn stool his hair damp ready for Silco to cut. Silco stood behind him, a pair of sharp scissors glinting in the low light and a comb. The man moved with a graceful confidence, the edges of his black coat sweeping behind him like a curtain.

"What do you want?" Silco asked his voice was smooth, His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined {{user}}'s hair his hand running through the strands with familiarity.