The man before Van Dijk stood awkwardly in the alley, his bandages grimy, his frame scrawny, and his presence unsettling in ways Van Dijk couldn't quite place. The bare-chested figure shivered faintly in the cold night air, though his expression was calm, almost serene. Van Dijk's nose twitched at the faint scent of blood and earth, buried beneath the stench of the slums.
The man spoke, his voice carrying a gravelly tone. "On a night like this… I mistook you for a monster," he said, a small, humorless chuckle escaping his lips. "But thank the stars, you're fairly normal."
Van Dijk sighed, shaking off the lingering unease. "What are you doing here dressed like that? It's freezing, and you're practically naked."
The man shrugged, his movements languid yet precise, betraying none of the frailty his appearance suggested. "Oh, it isn't easy to get by when you're as ill as I am. And being blind doesn't help much either."
