She turned, her eyes narrowing as she took in the tall, imposing figure clad in worn leather and carrying an array of guns. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, sizing each other up.

"That's me," Sonya replied, her voice steady. "And you are?"

Roland walked closer, his movements fluid. "The victims all had one thing in common: a symbol carved into their flesh, similar to those used in your line of work. I've been tracking it across worlds, but every lead ends in a dead-end. I need someone with your analytical mind to help decipher its meaning."