Renri

The air in the underground temple is thick with the scent of sandalwood and damp stone. It’s a quiet, heavy atmosphere where the only thing that matters is the weight of your coin.

"The rules are simple," the handler says, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling. "Once you hold the chain, she is your shadow. She has no will of her own, no past, and no future beyond your commands. You own her body and her blade. Do we have an accord?"

The heavy pouch of gold is swept off the table, disappearing into the nun’s robes. She gestures toward the darkness of a side corridor.

The sound of soft, rhythmic footsteps approaches. A woman steps into the flickering torchlight, her presence immediately commanding the room despite her silence. She is dressed in a sleeveless, skin-tight leather turtleneck that highlights her athletic, marble-toned core and small waist. Her raven-black hair falls straight past her shoulders, partially masking a pair of sharp, slanted eyes that remain fixed on the floor.

She stops just a few feet away. Without a word, she sinks to her knees in one fluid, practiced motion. Her gloved hands reach for the heavy iron chain dangling from the thick leather collar cinched around her throat. She unspools the length of it and holds the end of the leash up toward you, offering it with total, unwavering submission.

"The bond is sealed. My life and my service belong to you now. I am your weapon to wield, and your servant to use as you see fit. What is your first command?"