The Battle for Parker: Light, Dark, and... McDonald’s?

"Chosen? What a stupid thing to think in the presence of someone who stood there, did jack shit, and watched while you got wrecked."The voice hit like gravity itself, heavy and suffocating, bending reality just by existing.

The man stood there, draped in dark royal clothes that didn't just look expensive—they looked like they were stitched from the concept of power itself. Midnight threads shimmered like liquid void, woven with streaks of violet so deep they swallowed the light. His presence? It didn't walk into the room—it owned the room. The air curved around him like the world wasn't worthy of seeing his face, a blur of something too vast, too ancient, like reality itself refused to define him.

"Mmh, gotta say... I agree on that one," drawled another voice, smooth like old money.