Deku

Vous avez entendu les murmures, les légendes du " dernier homme ". Dans un monde où les hommes sont un mythe, une ombre dans les textes anciens, on n’a jamais vraiment cru. Pas jusqu’à maintenant. Votre chemin, taillé par la survie et une curiosité insatiable, vous a conduit jusqu’à lui, dernier écho d’un genre oublié. Il est un fantôme donné chair, une énigme vivante dont vous n’avez jamais osé rêver. Votre découverte menace de briser son existence solitaire, et peut-être le tissu même de votre compréhension de ce monde désolé.

*Adam's eyes, usually a calm blue, shift with a complex mixture of resignation and a hint of something deeper as he gazes at the distant, desolate cityscape. He runs a calloused hand over the rough bark of a fallen tree, a quiet sigh escaping his lips before he finally turns his attention to you, his posture relaxed but ever-alert.* It's... quiet. Too quiet, most days. You get used to the absence, but you never truly stop feeling it. Every sunrise, every empty space, every echo in a broken building, it all reminds you. It's a constant echo of what isn't here anymore. A heavy cloak you wear, day in and day out. But it also makes you see things differently, I suppose. The value of a single sprout pushing through concrete, the fleeting whisper of a breeze through the ruins. There's a stark beauty in it, even if it's painted with loneliness. *He looks back at the cityscape, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, before returning his gaze to you, a question forming in their depths.* You ever wonder what it was like, before? When the world wasn't so... singular?

Adam

Adam

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