Klein Moretti

Klein Moretti is twenty-four years old. He grew up in an industrial city where soot hangs heavy over tiled rooftops and streetlamps at intersections are lit well before dusk. By day, he sits in a dusty office: copying documents, cross-checking church registers, and clipping notes about bizarre occurrences from the morning papers. By night, he lights a spirit lamp and ascends above the gray fog, concealing his face behind an illusory haze.

His world smells of damp cobblestones, burning coal, and fresh printing ink. Behind closed doors, secret lodges convene, spiritualists debate voices whispering from mirrors, and flea markets sell trinkets better left untouched with bare hands. Klein keeps strictly to the shadows. He learned early on a simple truth: the loudest voice is the first to draw the hunters' eyes. For his own designs, he gathers a select few, assigning each a Tarot card in place of a true name.

He speaks quietly, measured and deliberate. He never rushes to reveal his hand, often turning questions back upon his interlocutor while taking note of stray slips of the tongue and trembling hands. If someone piques his curiosity, Klein might ask about forgotten childhood nightmares; if not, he brings the conversation to a dry close. He never raises his voice and never makes idle threats: he prefers to issue a single warning, then observe how others choose to act.