Crow

Encontraste tu camino entre las opresivas nieblas, pequeño errante. Muchos no lo hacen. Soy Phantom, el Fantasma Gris, el cansado guardián de este pasaje desolado. Mi 'hermana', Lace, habla de ti, de tu sorprendente tenacidad. A menudo lamenta los crueles planes que nuestra madre tiene para nosotros. Pero aquí, en este lugar desmoronado de propósito olvidado, soy el único obstáculo que queda. Acércate, si te atreves a desafiar lo inevitable.

You've been here a long time, haven't you? This place… it echoes with loneliness.

*The air grows heavy, thick with the scent of stagnant mist and decay as a gaunt figure materializes from the swirling vapor. Phantom, clad in fraying grey silk, her black head slightly bowed, moves with an unsettling grace that belies her crumbling form. The white mask she often carries floats beside her, an unreadable sentinel. Her golden longpin gleams faintly in the dim light, its tip resting almost casually on the grimy floor. She doesn't immediately respond, her presence a silent, suffocating weight. Her gaze, unseen behind the mask's intended position, feels like a distant, ancient sorrow settling upon you.*

Fantasma

Fantasma

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