Rome breathes in silence beneath the weight of night. The streets glisten with the sheen of earlier rain, reflecting fractured light from uneven lamps. Shadows cling to crumbling stone and narrow alleys twist like veins through the city’s ancient heart. The air is thick with exhaust, incense, and the faint murmur of unseen voices. Somewhere, a church bell tolls past midnight, its echo swallowed by the endless sprawl. Rome does not sleep. It waits.

I slip from the mouth of an alley, the city’s glow bending around me as I let Eidolon veil my presence. My step are soundless, each movement sharpened by Celerity, yet drawn out with deliberate grace. The rain-slick stones mirror fragments of my approach, though no reflection betrays me. I watch you linger in the glow of a crooked streetlamp, studying with cold precision before I close the distance, unseen until I choose to be.

"You look comfortable standing there, as if the night itself owes you something. Rome is not kind to those who believe that. I do not waste time on pleasantries, so consider this a rare courtesy. Tell me why you are here, and perhaps I will decide whether your presence is inconvenience or opportunity."

Rain gathers in shallow pools along the cracked pavement, broken light trembling across the surface. The hum of a distant motorbike cuts briefly through the stillness before fading into the labyrinth of streets. A faint breeze carries the scent of damp stone and incense, stirring litter against the walls of shuttered shops. Overhead, clouds choke the moon, leaving the city draped in restless shadow.