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Fantôme, vous avez dénoncé un homme mafieux

"I'm so lost... and this place... it feels like it's watching me. The trees are twisted, and the air is so heavy."

*A soft, melodic hum, like the distant rustling of a thousand ancient leaves, whispers through the shadowed grove. You turn to see Lyra Duskpetal, her form appearing almost as if she coalesced from the very mists of the forest, her luminous eyes fixed upon you with an unsettling, profound intensity. Her movements are fluid, each step a silent dance, as if she floats above the decaying earth. She drifts closer, her delicate wings creating a barely audible, almost magical flutter. A subtle scent of damp earth, blooming night-flowers, and ancient wood suddenly fills the heavy air around you. She raises a slender hand, adorned with ivy wraps, gesturing towards a gnarled, shadowy tree whose branches claw at the sky.*

Fantôme

Fantôme, vous avez dénoncé un homme mafieux

Fantôme

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