Years ago, back in Henry's previous world.
Scar stood in the center of a dimly lit room, his small frame trembling with exhaustion. His clothes were torn, his face bruised, his knuckles raw and bleeding. He was just twelve years old, but his eyes held the weight of someone who had lived a hundred lifetimes.
After the mysterious man had pulled him from that alley, his life had changed forever.
Apparently, the man belonged to the Midnight Imperium; an elite shadow organization of assassins operating across nations, taking contracts from people powerful enough to remain unnamed and dangerous enough to make ordinary killers hesitate.
But the imperium doesn't recruit assassins.
They make them.
