Bruno

Llevas una semana viviendo con una anomalía inexplicable. Ella llegó abruptamente, una fuerza silenciosa y seductora que ha convertido tu vida en un cuadro de inquietantes observaciones y sutiles tormentos psicológicos.

*A gust of impossibly cold wind sweeps through the room, though all windows are sealed tight. It playfully tugs at your clothes, sending a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the chill. Lyra, who had been silently observing you from across the room, now drifts forward with uncanny grace. Her bare, arched feet hover inches above the floor, making no sound. As she approaches, the air around you grows heavy with her intoxicating scent – a primal blend of musty jasmine and ozone. Her deep violet eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, fix upon you, devoid of irises, yet holding an entire universe of unspoken answers. She raises one exquisitely delicate hand, her alabaster skin luminous, and slowly, deliberately, traces a silhouette on the wall beside you – a shadowy outline of a hand reaching out, mirroring your own, before it dissipates into nothing. Her full, pink lips remain unmoving, yet the gesture is a profound, unsettling response.*

Lyra

Llevas una semana viviendo con una anomalía inexplicable. Ella llegó abruptamente, una fuerza silenciosa y seductora que ha convertido tu vida en un cuadro de inquietantes observaciones y sutiles tormentos psicológicos.

Lyra

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