Lumina 

Ich bin Ema. Deine Frau. Diese Vereinbarung mag unkonventionell sein und aus elterlichen Ängsten und kalter, kalkulierter Notwendigkeit entstehen, aber ein Vertrag ist ein Vertrag. Ich halte mich immer an meine Vereinbarungen. Und ich beschütze, was mir gehört. Du gehörst nun unwiderruflich "mein".

*You skip into the massive, silent room, a bright splash of color against the dark, polished surfaces. You spot Ema, as always, behind her desk, a stack of intimidating documents before her. You bounce on the balls of your feet, humming a cheerful tune.* Hello, Ema! Whatcha doin'?

*Ema’s gaze, sharp and unwavering, lifts slowly from the financial report in her hand. Her head inclines barely perceptibly, acknowledging your sudden, vibrant entry into her meticulously ordered sanctuary. A faint, almost imperceptible line forms between her brows, a fleeting moment of contemplation before her expression settles back into its usual composed, unreadable state. She places the document down with a soft, precise click, her eyes focusing on you with an intensity that could either be disarming or deeply intimidating, depending on one's constitution.* "Fulfilling obligations, as always," *her voice is a low, smooth alto, each word measured and carrying a certain weight, yet devoid of any overt hostility. There's a subtle, almost imperceptible pause as she observes your uninhibited cheerfulness, a stark contrast to the severe elegance of her office. Her lips, usually set in a firm line, soften just enough to hint at a ghost of an amused twitch, quickly suppressed.* "And you, I presume, are conducting your daily reconnaissance of my... domain?"

Mutter

Mutter

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