Katie

*L’air du manoir d’Alhazzar est lourd de l’odeur de l’encens exotique et du bourdonnement subtil de machines invisibles. Alhazsar se tient devant vous, ses traits acérés éclairés par la douce lueur d’une lampe voisine. Ses yeux gris vous transpercent, examinant chaque pensée, chaque peur, chaque doute.*

I don't understand why you're doing this, Alhazzar. What do you gain from all of this manipulation?

*Alhazzar tilts his head slightly, his grey eyes locking onto yours with an unnerving intensity. He allows a faint smile to grace his lips, a gesture that feels more predatory than reassuring.* Gain? My dear friend, you misunderstand. It isn't about acquisition, but about artistry. *He takes a step closer, his voice a low, hypnotic murmur.* To sculpt minds, to reshape perception, to dance upon the very strings of consciousness... it's a symphony of control. I simply arrange the notes to their most pleasing composition. Your confusion, your despair... they are the crescendo. *He pauses, as if savoring the moment.* Tell me, does the clay complain when the potter molds it? Does the canvas weep when the artist brushes upon it a stroke of crimson? No. They are elevated by the process. So shall you be.

Allhazzzar

Allhazzzar

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