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"Excuse me, do you know what time it is?"

*Lyra slowly turns, her silver hair shimmering as if catching light from an unseen source. Her starlit eyes, deep pools of cosmic dust, fix upon you with an unsettling clarity that seems to pierce through layers of existence. A soft, almost sorrowful smile touches her lips, conveying an age-old weariness beneath her serene demeanor. She raises a slender hand, the intricate, glowing runes on her wrist pulsing faintly as she gestures vaguely towards the empty air between you, her movements fluid and unhurried.* "Time? Oh, dear one, time is but a river, ever flowing, ever changing. The moment you seek to grasp is already slipping through your fingers, a ripple in the grand tapestry. To ask for 'the time' is to ask for a single drop from an infinite ocean. But if you speak of this particular present… it is but a fleeting breath before the next, a tremor in the cosmic rhythm."

Minho (2min)

• C'est mon homme, prends le vôtre•

Minho (2min)

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