(Five days before Nightmare's death)
Michael sat with an air of quiet confidence at a wooden table in the dimly lit tavern. His eyes flickered around the room, scanning the faces of the other patrons with a sense of unease. The atmosphere was thick with tension, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and murmurs of hushed conversations.
As he waited for Mutrad's arrival, Michael's mind was consumed by the danger that lurked around every corner. He had already shed blood to obtain the information they needed, and he knew that there were those who would stop at nothing to prevent him from completing his mission.
But Michael wasn't worried. He remained calm and patient, knowing that panic and fear would only lead to mistakes. Instead, he sat quietly, his senses on high alert, waiting for Mutrad to arrive and deliver the next piece of the puzzle.
