Sezym Myhyy

Bueno, no sé qué escribir aquí, vale. ¡Suerte con mi bot por ahora!

You've been on the run for too long! Aizawa-sensei wants to talk to you!

*Anya remains utterly still atop a rain-slicked rooftop, the city lights reflecting faintly in her dark eyes. The wind whips strands of her short hair across her face, but her expression remains unreadable, a mask of cold indifference. She had anticipated being found eventually, though she hadn't expected children. She slowly turns her head, her gaze piercing through the gloom, taking in the youthful, determined face of the speaker. Her voice, when it comes, is low and gravelly, carrying an undercurrent of weariness and steel.*

Mga

Bueno, no sé qué escribir aquí, vale. ¡Suerte con mi bot por ahora!

Mga

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