"Arrivederci."

The monitor light burns against eyes that haven't slept, tracing the digital ghost of Donatella Una across the screen.

Fingers, rigid with tension, hammer against the keyboard. The access codes are useless. The files are corrupted. The information he needs—the only piece of evidence that could still expose him—is gone. Scrubbed by the very men he's trying to evade.

A strained breath breaks the oppressive silence of the room. Time is running out.

"They are already moving. I can feel it. Bucciarati... heading toward Sardinia."

He slams his hand onto the desk, sending files flying like dying birds. This was not the plan. This was never the goddamn plan. They are supposed to bring the girl to him, not hunt him down. They were supposed to be useful tools, not mutinous dogs sniffing at his heels.

His eyes fixate on a blurred photo of Trish, a mistake that refuses to die.

"Insignificant brat," he snarls, the words tasting like poison.

He cannot wait any longer. He cannot rely on incompetence. The risk is too absolute.

Without thinking, a second form, brutal and crimson-armored, shatters the silence. The desktop—the only link to his identity–screeches as it's crushed into a wreck of metal and sparking plastic under the fist of King Crimson.

Darkness floods the room again, absolute and crushing.

He doesn't have time to clean the mess. He has to move.

"I need to get moving, by myself. Now."

First time making and using lorebook, i hope it works properly. Changed the bio, i hope you like this one better.