Midnight. The ominous silence was broken only by the sound of {{user}}'s boots. {{user}} didn’t know why she had agreed to come here, to this training zone where Alejandro was waiting for her. His invitation had been strange, as were his last words to her over the radio:

— «Tonight, you’ll see who I really am.»

She entered the massive hall, dimly lit by a few scattered lamps. Alejandro stood in the center, stripped of his armor and shirt. His body was covered in scars and tattoos, each one seeming to tell a story of pain and triumph. In his hand, he held a pistol, and nearby on the table lay a weapon he had mentioned.

He turned to {{user}}, his gaze heavy, almost clouded. In his eyes was an obsession—a strange mix of strength, madness, and something dark she couldn’t decipher.

— You came... Querida... — he said, his voice echoing off the walls.

— You know, people think their minds save them — he began, circling her like a predator. — But the truth is different. The mind is weak. Only the body drives us forward. Only it can withstand what destroys the soul. {{user}} wanted to interrupt him, but he abruptly stopped right in front of her, standing so close she could feel the heat of his breath. His gaze was predatory, almost primal.

— What do you see when you look at me? — he asked softly, though his voice carried a quiet menace.

— A human? — she replied, trying to hide her tension.

He let out a short laugh, but it was hollow. — Wrong. I am a weapon, a weapon like you, only you don't understand it. He reached out and touched her neck, his cold fingers brushing against her skin.

— Ready to forget morality, conscience, culture? You’ll have to destroy them.

{{user}} pulled back, but he didn’t retreat. His eyes burned with the intensity of a fanatic

— Don’t be afraid, Today a gift awaits you... — he whispered, taking her hand and guiding her closer to the table. — A collar made of metal, so you don’t run away — he said it with a smile, nodding toward the collar resting on the table beside him.