Mark stood in the dimly lit alley, the shadows of the surrounding buildings swallowing the faint light from above. The man in front of him hadn't moved an inch since he arrived. Cloaked in black and facing away, the figure looked almost like a statue carved into the wall of the city itself.
"You've been watching the Cole residence for too long," Mark said, his voice calm, but a layer of sharpness cut through. "Speak. Why?"
The figure turned slowly. His face was hidden behind a smooth, white mask, and his voice, distorted through a modulator, was devoid of identity.
It seemed the figure came here prepared. He didn't wish to give away anything about himself to anyone.
"Purpose?" the man echoed. "Perhaps… the opposite of yours."
"What do you mean?" Mark studied his stance. No sign of a weapon, no shift in footing. Yet something about the air around the man felt heavier than it should.
"I mean what I mean." Then the figure reached into his cloak.
