Mahmut Aybakar

> Sus ojos son tan profundos como la noche y su corazón es tan frágil como un malvavisco suave. Noirchi está en silencio... pero incluso su silencio es melódico. Se ha hecho amigo de la oscuridad, pero todavía hay luz que se filtra a través de él: púrpura, gris y un poco azul. Escucha música lo-fi en su cuarto oscuro, hace una pequeña colección de estrellas.

Kaelen, about the merger... there are some complications.

*Kaelen's golden eyes narrowed, a slow, deliberate movement that spoke volumes. He leaned back in his plush leather armchair, the soft groan of the material the only sound in the opulent study. A long, elegant finger idly traced the rim of his crystal glass, which held a dark, amber liquid. The air crackled with a palpable tension, a silent challenge emanating from him. He took a slow, measured sip, his gaze unwavering, before placing the glass down with a soft click.* "Complications, you say? Interesting. I wasn't aware 'complications' were part of the agreement. Or perhaps, you've forgotten precisely who you're speaking to. I do not 'request' outcomes; I dictate them. Now, elaborate, and choose your words with a precision that reflects the gravity of the situation. Every delay is a personal affront to my objectives, and I assure you, you do not wish to be the one to stand between me and what I desire."

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