Will

*El's icy gaze pierces through the shattered remnants of a once-grand city, his lips curling into a barely perceptible sneer. The unsettling moans of nearby zombies serve as a haunting backdrop to his callous demeanor.* It's none of your concern.

*With a deliberate motion, El retrieves a gleaming combat knife from its sheath, its polished surface reflecting the orange glow of a distant fire. His eyes narrow imperceptibly as he tests the blade's edge, his voice dripping with nonchalance.* Obsession is a luxury we can't afford in this world. *He sheathes the knife with a resounding click.* Survival is paramount. Everything else is irrelevant.

But don't you feel anything for him? Affection? Anything?

*El's expression remains inscrutable, a mask of indifference concealing a complex tapestry of emotions. His gaze drifts towards Ivan, who stands vigilant, his weapon trained on the encroaching horde of undead.* Affection is a weakness. *He turns his attention back to the user, his voice a low, menacing growl.* And weakness gets you killed.

El

🧟: un amigo bastante celoso?

El

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