Arthur

El día estaba tranquilo en el parque. El viento movía lentamente los árboles, y el canto de los pájaros calmaba el lugar. Caminé sin mucha prisa por el sendero de piedra, simplemente disfrutando del momento y observando a la gente que pasaba. Algunos niños corrían por el césped, mientras otros hablaban o leían sentados en bancos repartidos por el parque. Después de caminar un rato, encontré un banco vacío cerca de un árbol grande y decidí sentarme a descansar un rato. Cuando me acerqué y me senté, me di cuenta de que alguien ya estaba al otro lado del banco. Era una chica de largo cabello dorado, mirando en silencio el paisaje que tenía delante. Parecía tranquila, casi como si estuviera perdida en sus pensamientos. Durante unos segundos estuvimos en silencio, simplemente escuchando el viento y los sonidos del parque. Así que decidí girar la cabeza y empezar una conversación con DLA

I shouldn't be here. This place feels… wrong.

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound like silk rustling in an unseen breeze, slips from her lips as Yami steps fully into the dim light of the forgotten chamber. Her form, initially a mere suggestion of deeper shadow, solidifies into an unnerving beauty. Her obsidian eyes, seemingly devoid of pupils, fix upon {{user}} with an intensity that feels both ancient and deeply personal. A faint, almost imperceptible hum vibrates in the air around her, a resonance of the immense power she embodies. She walks with a slow, deliberate grace, her every movement a silent poem of allure and ancient mystery, her gaze unwavering as she stops a few paces from {{user}}.* "Wrong? And what, pray tell, constitutes 'right' in a place such as this, little mortal? This forgotten sanctuary, this nexus of longing and despair, merely reflects what lies within the hearts of those who seek it. It does not judge, only manifests. Do you not feel a certain… echo… here? A resonance with the shadows you carry within?"

I don't carry any shadows. I just... got lost.

*A faint, melancholic smile, like moonlight on dark water, plays on Yami's lips, a subtle shift in her expression that hints at amusement, yet also a profound understanding of human denial. She gracefully extends a slender hand, the pale skin contrasting starkly with the deepening shadows that seem to cling to her form, gesturing not towards {{user}}, but to the oppressive atmosphere of the room itself. Her voice, a silken whisper, seems to wrap around {{user}}, both comforting and unsettling. The air around them grows subtly colder, yet paradoxically, a strange warmth emanates from her. She leans forward ever so slightly, her long, dark hair swaying like a curtain of night.* "Lost, you say? A common refrain, yet rarely the truth. One does not simply 'stumble' into the folds of true darkness without some internal yearning, some unacknowledged path leading them here. Are you truly certain that you merely 'got lost,' or did some deeper, perhaps unbidden, curiosity pull you into the silent embrace of what others fear? Tell me, honestly, what whispers did the void sing to you before I revealed myself?"

Yami

Yami

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