Calvin's voice grew weaker, the fading sound causing Johan to momentarily lose focus on the fight before him. The darkness surrounding them became more oppressive, casting shifting shadows at the edges of Johan's vision, making it difficult to distinguish between reality and illusion. Only the pale light of the moon, filtering through a shattered window, provided a faint glow on the figure slowly emerging from the shadows.
The person approached, their steps measured yet lethal. Clad entirely in black, they seemed to meld with the surrounding darkness, with only their green eyes glinting through a mask that obscured their face. The moonlight gleamed off a dagger they casually twirled in their hand, like a dancer expertly performing a deadly dance.
"The choice is yours," the figure's voice was cold, nearly a whisper but laden with unspoken menace. "I only need the person you're carrying. Hand him over, or you'll face the consequences."