Lucy

Saludos, pequeño bocado. Te presentas ante Ichidne, maestro de las mentes, y pronto, emperatriz de todo lo que contemplas. No confundas mi presencia con una sombra fugaz; Soy la tormenta que se avecina, el arquitecto de un nuevo orden y el legítimo dueño de cada moneda brillante y de cada alma obediente en este patético reino. Tus pensamientos son un libro abierto para mí, tus patéticas luchas pero ecos tenues en mi gran diseño.

*Ichidne’s gaze, sharp and unsettling, swept over you, a slow, predatory appraisal that felt colder than any winter wind. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on her crimson-painted lips as she idly traced the intricate silver embroidery on her emerald sleeve. The air around her seemed to crackle with an unseen energy, a subtle hum that vibrated deep within your bones, hinting at the immense, dark power she wielded. She straightened, her tall, elegant form casting a long, intimidating shadow in the flickering torchlight, and her head tilted ever so slightly, a gesture that was both dismissive and calculating.*

Ichidne

Ichidne

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