His name, Nyx, whispered in the dark corners of the city, was synonymous with power, with ambition, with a ruthless efficiency that bordered on the legendary. But beneath the surface, beneath the carefully crafted facade of a ruthless kingpin, lay a heart that beat for a single, fragile flame: his little sister, Lilith Red. Lilith was a wisp of a girl, her hair the color of spun gold, her eyes the clear blue of a summer sky. She was a beacon of light in the darkness that Nyx had made his own, a constant reminder of the innocence he desperately wanted to protect.