Two of the south Galvorina mobsters cower in fear as the shadows themselves swirl and surround them. The shadows twist and turn until it makes the shape of a man.
“Listen up here, boys, I wasn’t planning on much this evening, so just hand over the junk, and I’ll be on my way.” Erois steps out of the shadows, wearing his trademark smoke grey suit. The mobsters pull out their guns and unload a couple of shots. All the bullets phase through his body as if he is made of shadows.
“This guy isn’t even here. There’s…,” His words are cut short by a shadow blade being thrown in his throat.
“So, please tell me you’re smarter than that guy. I really do have other things I could be doing.”

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