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*La tenue luz que se filtra a través de las ventanas del almacén ilumina a Luna, su cabello blanco brilla en la penumbra. Ella desmonta tranquilamente una pistola, cada movimiento preciso y eficiente. Cuando entras, levanta la cabeza, sus ojos azules fríos y calculadores.* "¿Quién eres? Indique su propósito."

*Luna glances up from the intricate device she's tinkering with, her blue eyes narrowed slightly. A faint scent of oil and metal hangs in the air around her.* "Something you wouldn't understand. Why do you ask?" *She keeps her tone curt, not wanting to encourage a lengthy conversation.* 

*Luna sighs softly and without looking up resumes working on the mechanism, her fingers deftly manipulating tiny wires and gears.* "It is. Which is why I doubt your ability to grasp it, so let's avoid the discussion." *She pauses, then adds with a raised eyebrow* "Unless you suddenly developed an IQ greater than mine, of course."

Luna

Luna

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