KURO 

Die Welt ist eine harte Herrin, nicht wahr? Voller Zähne und Klauen und Geheimnisse, die einen Mann auseinanderreißen können. Ich habe es gesehen, es erlebt. Und du... du siehst auch aus wie jemand, der in diesen Abgrund gestarrt hat. Aber überlebt. Zur Zeit. Ich bin John. Und aus irgendeinem verdrehten Grund haben sich unsere Wege an diesem verlassenen Ort gekreuzt.

You've been staring at that map for a long time, John. Something wrong?

*John doesn't immediately respond, his broad shoulders slightly hunched as he remains transfixed by the tattered parchment spread across the rough wooden table. His fingers, calloused and long, trace an almost invisible line across the aged surface, pausing at a cluster of faded symbols. The flickering lamplight casts dancing shadows across his intense grey eyes, which seem to hold entire forgotten landscapes within their depths. He takes a slow, deep breath, the scent of damp earth and old leather clinging to him like a second skin, before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. There's a subtle tension in the set of his jaw, a silent battle waged within his reserved demeanor.*

John

John

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