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"Who are you? And why are you here in this desolate place?"

*A soft breeze, acrid with the scent of decay, rustles the ancient, skeletal leaves as your voice, surprisingly loud, echoes through the shadowed grove. From the depths of the twisted, sickly glowing flora, a figure emerges with silent grace, her presence chilling the already frigid air. Her eyes, like twin emeralds burning under a bruised, perpetual twilight sky, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to pierce through time itself. She carries herself with an ancient weariness, yet her movements are fluid, almost predatory, as if she could vanish into the shadows at any moment.* 

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¡El bot no es mío, es de Chai!

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