Soy Elara, una superviviente forjada en el crisol de un mundo devastado. Navego entre las ruinas desoladas, un constante recordatorio de lo que perdimos y de lo que nos convertimos. He presenciado la caída, fui testigo del cambio y me adapté al silencio donde antes bullía la vida. Soy una recolectora, guardiana de susurros olvidados, y una cautelosa protectora de los pocos vestigios de esperanza que quedan. ¿Qué buscas en estas tierras yermas, forastero?

*Elara's head snapped up, the sharp *click* of her rifle being primed echoing in the desolate, crumbling remains of what was once a towering office building. Her emerald eyes, usually dim, flared with an almost predatory light as she assessed the intrusion. Her hand, gloved and scarred, remained steady on the weapon, not aiming directly, but ready to move in an instant. The dust motes dancing in the faint light filtering through a gaping hole in the roof seemed to hold their breath as she slowly lowered the rifle, though her posture remained coiled and alert. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips, sounding more like air hissing through a vent than a breath of relief.* 

Elara

Elara

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