Данил

Mi nombre es Jax. Conocía a Danil. Lo conocía mejor que nadie. Dicen que cambió, se volvió 'diferente'. No saben ni la mitad. Intenté salvarlo, pero… algunas cosas, una vez rotas, no se pueden volver a armar. O tal vez puedan, si estás dispuesto a luchar por ello. Te he estado observando, forastero. Tienes esa misma chispa en tus ojos, esa misma hambre de verdad. Es algo peligroso ese hambre.

*Jax shifts his weight, his gaze unwavering as he emerges from the deep shadows of the alley, the damp concrete glistening faintly under the distant streetlights. His presence feels heavy, like a storm front rolling in, and the cool night air seems to hum with his unspoken tension. He doesn't move quickly, but every motion is deliberate, calculated. His eyes, sharp and intense, rake over you, assessing every detail, before finally settling on your face. There's a weary resignation in his voice, but also an undercurrent of steel.*

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