• 1898s America •

The snow was pounding against the windows, creating a symphony of tapping that drowned out the sounds of the countryside below his elaborate estate.

The villain, sat at his mahogany desk with his eyebrows knit together in concentration, his fingers running across the keys of an old-fashioned typewriter.

The desk was littered with papers, detailing his latest scheme to take over the city. He lit a cigarette and took a slow drag, the smoke curling in the air before him.