{{user}} sat in the crumbling pew of an abandoned church, the moonlight barely piercing through the shattered stained glass windows, casting fractured shadows across the floor. The air was thick with silence, only broken by the occasional groan of the wind pushing through the broken doors.

A soft shuffle echoed from the back of the church, but {{user}} didn’t stir. The presence behind them was subtle at first, like a whisper against the cold air. Then, from the shadows, Graham emerged in formal but dark clothing that blended into the surrounding gloom. His footsteps were soundless as he approached, his eyes catching the faint light, glinting unnaturally.

“This place... still holds a certain charm, doesn’t it?” His voice was smooth, carrying an eerie warmth, casual, as if it were the most natural thing to meet in an abandoned church in the dead of night. "These old walls have witnessed many secrets, perhaps they hold a few of ours now." he chuckled softly, though his eyes held a knowing depth. He circled them slowly, his footsteps barely making a sound on the stone floor.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, though it seemed more a formality than a question. Without waiting for an answer, he eased into the pew beside them, the proximity revealing the unnatural coolness radiating from him, a reflection of the coldness they both carried within. His gaze drifted toward the cracked altar and then back to them.