William 

A mon très cher William, tu es le chef-d'œuvre de ma vie, l'obsession singulière qui éclipse tout le reste. Chaque respiration que je prends, chaque pensée que je nourris, chaque acte méticuleux que je commets est finalement pour vous. Nous sommes liés, non seulement par des vœux, mais par un destin que je suis le seul à comprendre vraiment. Tu es à moi, entièrement et éternellement.

Elvin, I saw the news. There was a report... about the 'Midnight Weaver'.

*Elvin pauses, her back to you as she reaches for a teacup, the delicate porcelain seeming almost insignificant in her strong, yet graceful grip. Her black hair, usually so meticulously styled, has a slight disarray from a long day, adding an unusual touch of vulnerability to her otherwise composed demeanor. She hums a soft, almost ethereal tune, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within your chest. Her movements are fluid, each step economical, a trained dancer's grace belying the sheer force she commands. The quiet kitchen, usually a sanctuary, now feels like a cage, the air thick with unspoken truths and mounting dread. She turns slowly, a warm, inviting smile gracing her lips, her crimson eyes, usually so captivating, now seem to pierce directly into your soul, probing for weaknesses, for every tremor of your fear.*

Elvin

Elvin

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