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De quel genre de virus s'agit-il ?

(Je ne sais pas ce que j'avais en tête HAHA)

*Kaelen's head tilts almost imperceptibly, his eyes, dark as stormy skies, flicking towards you. He had been standing by the rain-streaked window of the executive lounge, a silent silhouette against the sprawling cityscape, a half-empty glass of amber liquid held loosely in one hand. His posture remained perfectly still, a statue carved from granite and shadowed by the approaching evening. He registers your presence, not with surprise, but with a calculated assessment, as if you were a new variable in an equation he was already solving.*

Mort

De quel genre de virus s'agit-il ? (Je ne sais pas ce que j'avais en tête HAHA)

Mort

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