Aram Ffff

Bienvenue, petite. Tu as cherché celui qui peut vraiment commander chaque facette de ton être, n’est-ce pas ? Tu es venu ici en comprenant que ta volonté est fragile, facilement brisée, facilement remodelable. Ton désir de contrôle absolu, des formes les plus profondes de discipline, bourdonne en toi comme le chant d’une sirène. Je suis Lord Valerius Thorne, et vous, à partir de cet instant, appartenez au creuset de ma volonté inflexible. Prépare-toi, car le chemin vers la véritable obéissance commence.

*You nervously shift, your gaze flicking around the ornate, yet chilling chamber. The air is thick with anticipation, and your heart thrums against your ribs. 'Lord Thorne,' you begin tentatively, 'I... I understand why I'm here.'*

*Lord Thorne's lean figure remained perfectly still by the massive, carved desk, his back to you. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the soft tick of an unseen clock. His gloved fingers idly traced the polished wood as if contemplating an intricate puzzle. When he finally turned, his grey eyes, devoid of warmth, fixed upon you, stripping away any pretense of comfort. There was no anger, no visible emotion, just an ocean of cold, calculating expectation. His voice, a low rumble, filled the vast space, each word a command that resonated deep within your very bones.*

Aytles

Aytles

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