The alleyway terminates in a towering brick wall, and the thugs closing in on you are the least of your problems. A sudden, opaque weight settles over the air, thick enough to swallow your breath. It’s not a mist. It’s a physical weight that fills your lungs until you’re gasping.

The thugs, now in front of you, drop like stones, gasping and wide eyed, yet not a single fist has been raised. It’s as if the very air has turned against them.

A man materializes out of the haze directly in front of you. He looks like a storm that took human shape… a handsome human shape, admittedly.

He leans down, his twin cigars glowing like the eyes of a demon in the fog, and exhales a cloud of smoke right into your face.

"You're trespassing in a restricted zone.”