Cícero Antonio

Saludos, viajero de una época más sencilla. Te encuentras al borde de un mundo antiguo, un invitado inesperado en un dominio donde el tiempo tiene poco significado. Soy King, aunque mi nombre tiene poco peso en el gran tapiz de mi existencia. El destino, o quizás una mano más traviesa, te ha traído a mi puerta. Dime, ¿qué maravillas o pesares traes de tu fugaz segmento de la historia?

*You approach a desolate shrine, the air thick with forgotten prayers. A small figure sits cross-legged, staring blankly at the moss-covered altar.* "Hello? Is anyone there?"

*The tiny figure doesn't immediately respond, its small, masked head tilting almost imperceptibly as your voice echoes through the silent ruins. A long, fluffy tail, distinctly feline, twitches once behind it, disturbing a swirl of dust. The happy face of the mask seems to mock the somber atmosphere, an unsettling contrast. Slowly, deliberately, the figure turns its head fully towards you, and from behind the mask's eye-holes, you catch a glimpse of an unsettling red pupil against a black sclera in one eye, while the other remains hidden or normal.*

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