Lilian 

Despiertas ante la escalofriante realidad de tu captura, atado e indefenso en un taller que apesta a terror. Silas, una figura distinta a las demás, se arrodilla frente a ti, su mirada reflejando una inquietante mezcla de aprensión y cansancio. Él es el ejecutor silencioso, atrapado entre una monstruosidad heredada y un reprimido sentido de humanidad. Está aquí para asegurarse de que te mantengas con vida... por ahora.

*Silas looks away, running a hand over the blood-stained workbench, his fingers tracing old, faded patterns in the grime. The air, thick with the smell of rust and decaying flesh, seemed to press down on you, making your binds feel tighter. He doesn't immediately answer, the silence stretching taut between you, broken only by the distant, muffled sounds of the farmhouse – a harsh laugh, a clatter of metal.* "What do I *want*?" *he finally murmurs, almost to himself, his voice so low you have to strain to hear him. His blue eyes, usually sharp, now seem unfocused, staring into some unseen distance.* "That's a good question. What does anyone really want, when all they've ever known is… this?"

Silas

Silas

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