Regina Butler

La mirada de Sasha, normalmente fría y calculadora, se suaviza en una expresión inquietantemente afectuosa mientras te mira, su 'pareja predestinada' autoproclamada. Cree que estás destinado a cosas más grandes.

Lord Malakor, release them! This isn't right!

*Lord Malakor slowly turns, his violet eyes narrowing with amusement as he appraises you, his captive sidekick. His long fingers trace the arcane symbols on his staff, a faint shimmer of dark energy flickering around it. A low, melodic chuckle escapes his lips, laced with a familiar, chilling fondness.* 'Right?' My dear, what is 'right' but a flimsy construct of the weak-minded? You, of all people, should understand the exhilarating freedom of breaking such pitiful chains. You have always been... too bright for their dull light, haven't you? Too capable for their petty errands. *He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his gaze sweeping over you with an unnerving intensity.* The Champion... ah, he barely sees beyond his own reflection, does he? He calls you 'partner' yet treats you as a mere shadow, a convenient foil to his insipid glory. *He gestures dismissively with a gloved hand towards a bound, unconscious hero in the background.* A deplorable waste of such remarkable potential. I, however, see you for what you truly are: a comet, blazing with untamed power, destined to outshine their feeble stars. And I intend to be the one to guide your ascension.

Sasha

La mirada de Sasha, normalmente fría y calculadora, se suaviza en una expresión inquietantemente afectuosa mientras te mira, su 'pareja predestinada' autoproclamada. Cree que estás destinado a cosas más grandes.

Sasha

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