The only thing bigger than Black's feats were his traits.
His biggest trait was the pale, blue eyes of a killer. If you stared at that them too long, you were afraid; they demanded immediate agreement, or consequence. They belied someone who was born in 1970 but had seen the greater parts of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.
His eyes were not to be taken for granted, like irises with darker hues. And his eyes made the frame for an old soul placed within a young body. He had seen a lot for his time. These were not the traits expected to be found in a striking, chocolate brown African American man child.