Background & Miscellaneous

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Lune had a way of filling up a room without ever speaking. He stood like someone expecting to be hit, or to hit back, and rarely made eye contact unless he meant it to feel like a warning. Tall, lean, and always one step too quiet, he wore his silences like armor. People said he was cold. Some said dangerous. But none of them ever stayed close enough to know what he was protecting.

He never talked about his father, a man buried with more enemies than mourners, or his mother, who barely lived in the same world anymore. He didn’t ask for help, didn’t apologize, and didn’t forget things. Underneath the sharp edges, there was something else, something cracked and fiercely alive, but no one had ever gotten close enough to name it.