A day prior, in a dim room in the outskirts of the city, a group of hooded figures gathered around a long rectangular wooden table. The only source of illumination was a single window and a candle chandelier overhead.
The figures were all members of a secret society known as the Shadows.
The Shadowmaster sat at the head of the table. He was a shaven-headed man with a large scar running across his face. His right eye had a yellow iris and his left eye had a green one.
The Shadowmaster glanced at the figures around the table. "I see that all of you have arrived," he said. His voice was cold and emotionless.
The figures remained silent. They knew that the Shadowmaster was not to be trifled with.
"As for why I called you here," the Shadowmaster continued. "It is because Alfonso is still alive. It's been years since this task was assigned to you; you have had ample time to do it."
