1 — Dishonored

The rain over Dunwall had not let up for forty days. It fell in greasy sheets, washing blood and whale oil into the Wrenhaven River. Corvo Attano knelt in the shadow of a copper gargoyle, his masked face tilted toward the lamp-lit windows of the Golden Cat. Behind him, the city groaned—a dying beast choked by plague and the Lord Regent’s iron fist.

But the Outsider had other plans.

He could kill them. The Outsider’s mark itched. One swift possession into the guard outside. One Bend Time to freeze the twins mid-laugh. Their throats would open like red flowers, and no one would ever know. dishonored 1

Emily squeezed his neck. “You’re shaking,” she said. The rain over Dunwall had not let up for forty days

A chokehold. A quiet drag. Two unconscious bodies slumped behind a velvet curtain. He picked the lock on Emily’s door with a hairpin, and when the hinges creaked open, a small figure launched herself at his legs. Behind him, the city groaned—a dying beast choked

The mark on Corvo’s left hand still ached—a black, angular brand that smelled of ancient stone and void. It had given him powers he did not ask for: the ability to stop time, to possess the bodies of rats and men, to blink across rooftops like a thrown knife. Each power was a temptation. Each use a whisper that there were no clean hands in this fight.