A PREQUEL TO OMERTÀ :::DISCLAIMER::: [All the cast belong to God and themselves. I just own the plot.] He grew up with no last name, no family, and no godㅡonly a gang that bled like one. Now he cuts people open for a living. Sometimes to save them. Sometimes because saving them keeps him alive. And in his world, every heartbeat he restores makes his own tick louder like a warning.

A PREQUEL TO OMERTÀ :::DISCLAIMER::: [All the cast belong to God and themselves. I just own the plot.] He didn't ask to be born. Didn't ask to be dragged from a brothel into a penthouse. But he grew up anyway. He learned how to suture flesh and muteness. He learned that not all pain is visible, and not all scars can be cut away. Now he saves broken minds for a living. Even when his own never truly healed. Even when he knowsㅡsome doors should've stayed closed.