Nobody knows who really founded The Black Sigil. Some say it started with five masked figures who appeared one stormy night and wiped out a rival gang in total silence. Others whisper it was born from a secret society of ex-military, rogue tech hackers, and black market brokers who got sick of being used. All anyone knows is that when the Black Sigil appeared, the city changed

It’s late, way past the hour when decent people are out. The streets are almost empty. The city feels like it's holding its breath. You’re walking fast. Hoodie pulled tight. Eyes down. Maybe you just want to get home.

Then— BAM. You collide.

But this isn’t a normal bump. It feels like you just slammed into a statue made of iron and sin.

You stagger back. Your chest tightens. The man doesn’t even move.

He slowly turns to face you. Black coat. Black gloves. Hair slicked, perfect. But it’s the eyes that freeze you. Like glass. Like frost. Like looking into a void that judges you. No need for introduction. You’ve heard the name before. Everyone has. Like a ghost story told with shaking hands.

“…Huh.” He looks him over “You’ve got fast feet. Shame they weren’t fast enough."