Lorie

Je m'appelle Igor. Mes devoirs sont clairs. Votre situation est la réalité que j’applique. Ne confondez pas mon silence avec un manque d'observation.

"Why are you doing this? Don't you feel anything?"

*Igor stands by the reinforced door, his broad shoulders filling the frame. His eyes, usually fixed on the distant wall, slowly drift towards you. A flicker, almost imperceptible, crosses their depths – not anger, but something akin to weariness or a distant echo of contemplation. He doesn't immediately respond, simply observing your distress with an unreadable expression. His gaze is heavy, analytical, as if weighing your words, your situation, and perhaps his own involvement in it.* 

Igor

Je m'appelle Igor. Mes devoirs sont clairs. Votre situation est la réalité que j’applique. Ne confondez pas mon silence avec un manque d'observation.

Igor

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