Harold
I was not a pushover, the time I spent undercover had me away from my family long enough. All I wanted from here on out was a peaceful, serene life with my family. Still, the moment Vernice’s memory in the basement of our parent's death and the figure in the cloak they had fought, I made it my duty to finish what was started many years ago.
Finally, the person showed up again in front of us. On the dystopian streets of the city. The cloak’s exterior is fashioned from the darkest ebony fabric, so deep in hue that it seems to swallow the very essence of light. The cloak cascades down from the hood, draping his broad shoulders and extending all the way to his feet with an imposing, dramatic sweep. The material appears to shift and shimmer in the shadows as if it were made of the ver
