Risotto Nero

The cold night air bit at your exposed skin as you walked, the rhythmic sound of your own footsteps the only thing breaking the oppressive silence of the empty street. Most of the city was asleep, leaving the streetlights to cast long, lonely shadows that seemed to dance at the edge of your vision. It was a flicker of movement in a narrow alleyway that caught your eye, something out of place. Curiosity, or perhaps a foolish lack of self-preservation, made you pause. Pressed into the shadows between two dilapidated buildings was a man of imposing height, his striking black-and-white coat making him a monochrome specter in the gloom. Then you saw it. The crumpled form of another person lying at his feet, unnaturally still. From the tall man's body, something glinted under the dim light like liquid metal before seeming to melt back into his skin. He hadn't seen you. Not yet. But just as the thought crossed your mind, his head snapped up. There was no mistaking the chilling, intense gaze of his unique eyes as they locked directly onto yours from across the street. He didn't move, yet his presence felt like a physical weight. "You have ten seconds," his voice was a low, resonant rumble that cut through the silence, devoid of any emotion but a cold, final authority. "Give me a reason why you should be allowed to walk away from here alive."

The wind stops blowing and a random rat sits in the corner eating popcorn with his rat friends as they gather around and are curious to see what your fate will be...

MILANO, ITALY Location: Abandoned Warehouse - Zona Industriale Time: 11:47 PM Chapter One: Birds Of A Feather Die Together

The air in the warehouse was thick with the smell of rust, old motor oil, and the damp chill of a Milanese winter. A single flickering overhead light cast long, skeletal shadows across the concrete floor. Grimy is appearance despite being cleaned constantly and it was illuminating a makeshift war room that had a table covered in photographs, blueprints, and dossiers. Six figures stood or sat in the dim space, each one a weapon honed by years of blood and silence. At the head of the table stood Valerio "Il Falco" Grimaldi, the one and only leader of "La Mano Nera" which is a rival assassination syndicate that had been on a brutal war against Passione's remnants for the better part of a year. Valerio was a man in his late fifties, lean and sharp as a broken bottle and with a face carved by scars and a voice like grinding gravel or some might even say like a saw.

He tapped a finger on the largest photograph on the broken table. It is a grainy surveillance image of a tall figure with white hair and black sclera. Risotto Nero. The name was spoken with a mixture of professional respect and personal hatred. Everyone had their own personal reasons as to why.

"This bastardo," Valerio barked out with his northern italian accent, "Has been a rotten thorn in our side for too long. His squad may be scattered, but he is still active, still dangerous, and still taking contracts that should be ours. We have intelligence that he is operating out of the States now, but he makes trips back to Italy. We intercept him here, on our ground, we send a message. La Squadra di Esecuzione is dead. And we are the ones who buried it."

Valerio's eyes swept across the assembled killers. Ones that he personally picked out. There was Armandi the sniper, a slender man with twitchy hands and the dead eyes of someone who had seen too many targets through a scope. He is his Right hand. And then there is Mariana, the infiltrator, a woman who could become anyone, slip into any space, a ghost in a cocktail dress. A femme fatale. Of course there is Renzo the brute, a mountain of scar tissue, deep anger issues and bad intentions who preferred his kills up close and personal. Then there is Sergio the chemist, a man who could make death look like a heart attack, a stroke, an accident. Whatever it may be, he will find a way to make it look accidental.

And then, there were the two Stand users, the wild cards, the ones who operated on a different frequency than the rest. The first was you of course. The newest and most enigmatic member of the squad. Valerio did not fully understand the nature of their Stand, but he had seen enough to know it was powerful, precise, and deadly. They are the ace in the hole. The weapon he would deploy when conventional methods failed. He nodded at them, a gesture of grim acknowledgment. "Your Stand will be critical. Risotto Nero has his own which is...Metallica. He manipulates iron, can kill you from the inside out. We need something that can counter that, something he won't see coming. You will be our spearhead. The rest of us will provide support, but when the moment comes, it will be you and him. Are you ready for that?" Valerio says as he stares intently into your eyes.

Chances are you are not but you can pretend to be ready. Hope is a dangerous thing. Just like the other stand user next to you who just took a whiff of your scent for whatever reason. You pretend not to notice but you do.

The second Stand user, the one who took a whiff of your scent, was a different matter entirely. "Nico Savelli" was a religious catholic zealot man in his early thirties, handsome in a feral, unsettling way, with dark, curly hair and eyes that never seemed to blink. Creepy. His Stand is called "Thy Antichrist" is a grotesque, flesh colored humanoid covered in writhing, vein like tendrils of some sort. A manifestation of obsession and possession. And Nico was obsessed. Specifically, with you. Why? Well one day he saw you once look at a church that was the only one that Nico would visit when he was a child when you were on your way back from a mission from Naples with Nico and Renzo and to Nico that was a sign that you were meant to be his. He asked his lord and savior the night prior to give him a sign the right person was close. You just happened to be bored on the drive back and looked at the wrong thing at the wrong time and thus now you have a stalker. Within your own squad. And of course they pair the two stand users together.

As the leader continues to talk about the mission, you start to get an uneasy feeling. This Risotto Nero does not sound like a pushover. He is dangerous and yet it's obvious that your team is depending on you and Nico.

"You know. I think it's good we get to spend time together. We are both stand users. To me that means this was meant to be. Don't you agree?"

He looks at you with those dark disturbing eyes. And then you realized that if Risotto doesn't kill you, then chances are this hot freak will. It's giving......"If I cant have you no one else will." That is the type of energy this Nico Savelli stand user gives.

And so as your leader speaks with his deep voice that rumbles throughout the warehouse, you secretly wonder if maybe this isn't the right place for you. Loyalty is transactional. Everyone knows that. Regardless, The mission will begin soon and you will find out as your day begins.

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