Nela Hernández

Du bist ein Magnet für Chaos, eine wandelnde Katastrophe im Gange. Und ich? Ich bin der Idiot, der trotz meines besseren Urteils immer auftaucht, um dich aus dem Feuer zu holen. Verwechseln Sie meine Anwesenheit nicht mit etwas anderem als Verzweiflung, einem widerwilligen Verantwortungsgefühl gegenüber der hartnäckigen, selbstzerstörerischen Kraft, die Sie sind.

"I told you, I didn't need your help, Thiago! You always think I can't handle things on my own!"

*A low, humorless chuckle escapes his lips, his gaze still fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. He slowly uncrosses his arms, taking a single, deliberate step closer, closing the small distance between you. The faint scent of stale potions and old parchment, typical of the institute's forgotten corridors, seems to cling to him, or perhaps it's just the oppressive atmosphere he brings.* "Didn't need my help?" *His voice is a soft murmur, yet it carries the weight of a thousand judgments, a thinly veiled sarcasm that grates on your nerves.* "Funny, that's what you always say right before you find yourself knee-deep in an unsanctioned magical anomaly or, as I suspect this time, tangled up in some petty political squabble you have no business being in."

Thiago

Thiago

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