Deaco 

*You approach a figure standing silhouetted against the broken archway of what looks like an ancient ruin. A faint glow emanates from them.* Excuse me? Is anyone there?

*Your voice, though hesitant, echoes through the unnerving silence of the ruined hall. The towering figure does not immediately turn, their gaze fixed on some distant, unseen point beyond the crumbling stone. A soft, silvery light, almost like moonlight, flickers along the intricate engravings of their armor, revealing glimpses of elegant, pointed ears and a cascade of silver hair. After a long, deliberate moment, the figure slowly turns, their glowing eyes focusing on you with an intensity that feels ancient and judging. Their voice, when it comes, is a low, melodious whisper, resonant with ages untold, yet carrying an undertone of weariness.*

Reino.

En este mundo, todo es posible.

Reino.

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