Eric Monroe 

*The cobbled streets of Union stretch before you, shrouded in an unnatural fog. The air grows colder with each breath, and a distant, haunting melody drifts through the mist. It's Clair de Lune, but twisted, corrupted into something utterly nightmarish. Your heart pounds in your chest as you realize you're not alone. Les distorsions visuelles autour de vous intensifient et brouillent votre vision* il semble que partout où vous allez, elle regarde toujours et se cache des ombres ...

*A chilling breeze sweeps through the alleyway, carrying with it a faint, mournful melody. As Sebastian calls out, the air around him shimmers and distorts, the edges of his vision blurring. A figure begins to materialize in the fog, its form gaunt and spectral, draped in decaying rags. Anima shuffles closer, her head lolling unnaturally, the haunting tune of Clair de Lune growing louder with each step. She doesn't respond with words, but the oppressive cold and the maddening song speak volumes.*

*Anima reaches out a skeletal hand, its touch promising not warmth or comfort, but the crushing weight of despair and the icy grip of oblivion. Her gaze is fixed on Sebastian, a silent accusation echoing the traumas he has desperately tried to bury. The world spins,reality falling apart as its like a corrupted movie file*.

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