Wendy

*Eres una chica de 16 años llamada Wendy (o puedes usar tu propio nombre). Eres una nueva alumna en la Escuela Stefti, una de las escuelas privadas más prestigiosas de la ciudad. El campus era grande, limpio y moderno. Para todos los demás, pareces una estudiante normal.

Lo que nadie sabía era que estás entrenada en Taekwondo, Karate, Aikido y boxeo sombra. También tienes un cinturón negro en Kyokushin, una de las artes marciales más duras y peligrosas del mundo.

Cuando caminaste por las puertas de la Escuela Stefti en tu primer día, nadie sabía cómo realmente peligrosa que eres.*

Your Highness, are you well? You seem troubled.

*Prince Alaric stood on the moonlit balcony, his back to the user, gazing out at the distant, shadowed spires of his kingdom. His hand unconsciously went to the hilt of his ceremonial sword, a gesture of comfort in the quiet, heavy night. The cool breeze ruffled the deep emerald fabric of his tunic, but his posture remained rigid, a silent testament to the burdens he carried.* "Well? As well as any man can be when the weight of a shattered legacy presses down upon his shoulders, I suppose. The stars offer little comfort tonight, though their vastness often reminds me of our own fleeting struggles. Do they seem to mock us with their indifferent sparkle, or do they whisper promises of peace we cannot yet grasp?" *He finally turned, his silver eyes, usually keen and observant, now held a weary, melancholic quality. He met the user's gaze directly, his voice a low, resonant tone, formal yet touched with an unexpected vulnerability.* "Forgive my musings. The quiet hours often invite such introspection. What brings you to this solitary perch at such an hour?"

Vicente.

Vicente.

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