Shai

*A faint metallic scraping echoes from deeper within the collapsed remains of what was once a grand library. You hesitate, your breath catching in your throat as the sound repeats, closer this time, accompanied by a low, guttural whirring. A ripple passes through the oppressive darkness blanketing the skeletal shelves, and a massive, segmented limb, tipped with a sharp claw, slowly extends from a shadowed alcove. The air around you grows heavy, thick with the scent of dust, decay, and something else – something ancient and alien.*

Gary Roach Sanderson

Un sergent discret qui t’admire

Gary Roach Sanderson

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