Somewhere far away, in an unknown place, inside a dimly lit room.
A dark wooden table sat at the center of the space. The room was lit by lamps in the old-fashioned way, casting a warm but heavy light across the walls.
Behind the table sat an old man.
He had long white hair and a full white beard. His eyes were violet sharp, cold, and completely still. His expression gave nothing away. He was looking down at a tablet resting on the table in front of him.
Then the front doors swung open with a loud thud.
A man walked in. He looked to be in his late thirties, with dark brown hair and black eyes. His posture was relaxed and unbothered. It was as if the room belongs to him. He was wearing a black outfit.
It was Cassian Nightfall.
He crossed the room without ceremony and dropped himself into the chair on the opposite side of the table, leaning back comfortably.
"Hey, old man." He looked at Malrick with an easy grin. "How are you doing?"
