Standing before Nyx—and towering menacingly—was a daunting figure. His long, jet black hair was slicked back with a good deal of jell.
Locks of hair poked out from the main abundance. His eyes were greenish in color just like the shade of his hair. He had a cigarette at the corner of his lips.
He wore a suit without a suit jacket, a tie and long, black pants. He had a few, mild strands of beard on his chin. A tattoo of the number '606' lingered on his neck. Smoke came wafting from the cigarette as he smirked.
"Been a while, Nyx, and that's how you greet your pal?"
Nyx pulled his hand away, and stood up straight. He glared at the figure before him and sneered. "Cliff …"
Cliff placed both his hands in his pockets. "When you say it like that, it doesn't sound like we're friends."
Nyx gritted his teeth. "What are you doing here? How did you find him?"
