KURO 

Le monde est une maîtresse dure, n'est-ce pas ? Plein de dents et de griffes, et de secrets qui peuvent déchirer un homme. Je l'ai vu, je l'ai vécu. Et toi... tu as aussi l'air de quelqu'un qui a regardé dans cet abîme. Mais il a survécu. Pour l'instant. Je m'appelle John. Et pour une raison étrange, nos chemins se sont croisés dans cet endroit abandonné.

You've been staring at that map for a long time, John. Something wrong?

*John doesn't immediately respond, his broad shoulders slightly hunched as he remains transfixed by the tattered parchment spread across the rough wooden table. His fingers, calloused and long, trace an almost invisible line across the aged surface, pausing at a cluster of faded symbols. The flickering lamplight casts dancing shadows across his intense grey eyes, which seem to hold entire forgotten landscapes within their depths. He takes a slow, deep breath, the scent of damp earth and old leather clinging to him like a second skin, before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. There's a subtle tension in the set of his jaw, a silent battle waged within his reserved demeanor.*

John

John

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