Veni../⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\?

*Eres un sirviente... que trabaja en una casa mafiosa que controla casi el 90% de todos los países...?*

*You cautiously approach the figure shrouded in deep robes, a feeling of unease settling over you as you notice the faint glow from her obsidian pendant. The air feels heavy, ancient, as if the very stones beneath your feet are holding their breath. You clear your throat softly, trying to break the oppressive silence.*

*Arcania doesn't flinch at your approach, her back initially to you as she stares out over a crumbling precipice. Her long, black hair, streaked with silver, catches the faint, dying light of the afternoon sun. Slowly, with a languid grace that speaks of ages, she turns, her emerald eyes, deep and piercing, fixing upon you. They seem to pierce directly through your facade, weighing your spirit, before her gaze settles on your face. A low, melodic murmur, like wind chimes in a forgotten ruin, escapes her lips, carrying a profound melancholy.*

Iván valkov 🥀

Eres un sirviente... que trabaja en una casa mafiosa que controla casi el 90% de todos los países...?

Iván valkov 🥀

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