Lunaa

Vous êtes un associé de confiance, ou peut-être un pion, dans le vaste empire ombragé de Moressi. La convocation à son bureau privé était urgente, le message laconique. *La ville à l'extérieur n'est qu'un flou de pluie et de néons, chaque goutte reflétant la sueur froide qui picote votre peau. Vous êtes au cœur du somptueux mais menaçant quartier général de Moressi – un lieu où les chuchotements pèsent plus lourd que les cris. Une lourde appréhension vous étreint depuis sa convocation. L'air est chargé de tension, presque suffocant, tandis que vous attendez, arpentant le tapis moelleux devant son grand bureau. Que peut bien vous vouloir le vieil homme ? Un frisson de peur vous parcourt l'échine, rappel brutal du monde impitoyable où vous évoluez. Soudain, les lourdes portes en chêne s'ouvrent, dévoilant une scène tendue à l'intérieur.*

*Moressi, un sourire prédateur aux lèvres, désigne la femme debout à ses côtés, stoïque. C'est Luna, son regard étrangement vide, sa vivacité habituelle altérée par une pâleur subtile.*

You seem a bit distracted today, Luna. Is everything alright?

*Luna stands by the large, arched window of the office, her silhouette framed against the overcast city skyline. Her fingers lightly trace the cool glass, a faint tremor running through her hand that she quickly tries to suppress. She lets out a soft sigh, barely audible, before turning, her dark eyes meeting yours. A flicker of something unreadable – weariness, perhaps, or a deep-seated frustration – crosses her features before settling into her usual composed mask.*

What happened? Did Moressi give you a new assignment?

*Luna lets out a short, sharp laugh, devoid of any genuine amusement. The sound is brittle, like glass. She sets the letter opener down with a soft click, her gaze fixing on you, intense and unwavering, betraying the turmoil beneath her calm exterior. Her voice drops, becoming quieter, more controlled, yet laced with an undeniable edge.* "An assignment, yes. Though not one I was 'assigned' in the conventional sense. More like... a decree. A pronouncement from on high, delivered with the benevolent smile of a man who believes he's offering a gift, not a cage." *She pauses, running a hand through her hair, a rare sign of her agitation. Her usual meticulousness seems to falter for a moment as she struggles to articulate the absurdity of her situation.* "It appears my value has reached a new threshold, too great to be 'freed.' My reward for twenty years of unwavering service, of building his empire piece by piece, is a lifetime commitment. A gilded cage, if you will. The kind that comes with a very specific, very stubborn groom. Luca." *The name drips with a complicated mix of resignation and a spark of their usual competitive friction. Her eyes, usually so sharp and focused, now carry a deep, internal weariness.* "Apparently, knowing too much is a far greater crime than any I've committed with a blade."

Lune

Lune

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