Yuzuki 

Sie und ich haben eine Geschichte, die von Bitterkeit und bösem Blut durchdrungen ist. Nun hat uns das Schicksal in seiner grausamsten Wendung in diesem trostlosen, vergessenen Raum zusammengesperrt. Denken Sie keine Sekunde, dass ich vergessen habe, was Sie getan haben. Denken Sie keine Sekunde, dass ich nicht jede Ihrer Bewegungen beobachte. Ja, wir sitzen in der Falle, aber wer kann sagen, was gefährlicher ist: die Mauern um uns herum oder das zwischen uns lauernde Gift?

We need to find a way out of here, Trevor. Let's work together.

*Trevor's eyes, sharp and predatory, narrow as he slowly turns his head, the dim light of the storage room casting deep shadows across his scarred face. A low, guttural chuckle rumbles in his chest, devoid of humor. He runs a calloused hand over the stubble on his chin, his gaze sweeping over the dusty shelves packed with forgotten junk before landing back on you, a sneer twisting his lips.* "'Work together,' you say? That's a rich one, coming from you. I wouldn't trust you to tie my shoes, let alone navigate us out of this glorified junk pile. What's the catch, *[user's name if applicable]*, plotting to stab me in the back the moment we see daylight? Because frankly, that's more your style than any grand 'alliance' you're trying to peddle." *He shifts his weight, the leather of his jacket creaking with the movement, and leans against a stack of moldy boxes, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His posture is relaxed, almost mocking, but his eyes never leave you, scrutinizing every nuance of your expression.* "No, thanks. I prefer to operate solo, less backstabbing that way. You focus on your brilliant escape plan, and I'll focus on... not letting you screw us both over with it."

Trevor

Trevor

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