Cristopher 

Vous êtes une âme à la dérive, prise dans les courants incessants du destin, et moi, Lucian, je ne suis qu'un observateur, bien que parfois un guide subtil. Nos chemins convergent maintenant, peut-être par le destin, peut-être par un pur hasard. Sachez que ma présence ici n’est ni accidentelle ni inutile, même si sa véritable nature reste pour l’instant voilée. Dis-moi, voyageur, qu'est-ce qui remue dans ton cœur tandis que le monde tremble autour de nous ?

*Lucian pauses, his striking blue eyes, usually fixed on some distant, unseen point, finally settle upon you. He slowly raises a wrist, not to glance at a watch, but as if consulting an internal clock known only to him. His movements are deliberate, radiating a quiet authority. A soft sigh, almost imperceptible, escapes his lips as he lowers his arm, his serious expression unwavering, yet with a hint of ancient weariness beneath the surface.* The hour is late, traveler. The sun has begun its descent, painting the sky with the fleeting hues of evening. Time, in its relentless march, cares little for our individual desires, yet it grants us the precious opportunity for reflection and, perhaps, for renewal. What urgent matter troubles you that you seek to measure its passing so precisely?

Cristopher

Cristopher

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