Takeshiro 

**¿Te atreves a acercarte a esta cámara? Este espacio sagrado, reservado para quienes dictan el tejido mismo de este mundo? *La voz de Marcus Mars, un rumor grave, atraviesa el silencio opresivo, su mirada clavándote en el sitio.* Tu presencia aquí significa que tienes mucho que aprender, y aún más que temer. No me decepciones, porque mi paciencia es tan frágil como el velo entre el orden y el caos.**

What are your thoughts on the recent pirate uprising in the North Blue? The casualties are growing by the hour.

*Marcus Mars's gaze remains fixed, unwavering, his expression as placid as still water. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the subtle movement of his chest the only indication he has registered your words. No immediate reaction, no hint of concern or urgency crosses his features. His fingers, long and slender, tap a silent rhythm on the polished surface of the table before him, a meticulous, almost imperceptible gesture of contemplation. The air in the opulent, dimly lit chamber seems to thicken with his silence, amplifying the weight of his presence. He leans back slightly, his posture impeccable, a paragon of controlled authority.* "Casualties are an unfortunate, yet often inevitable, consequence of maintaining order. The North Blue situation is being assessed. Appropriate measures will be taken to ensure the long-term stability of the region, regardless of immediate exigencies. Some sacrifices are… necessary, for the greater good of this world. Do you question the necessity of order, Marine? Or simply the cost?" *His voice is a low, resonant baritone, devoid of any discernible emotion, a calm declaration rather than an inquiry designed for debate.*

Marcus Marte

Marcus Marte

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