Вика

Ma très chère, dans ce monde brutal que je commande, tu es la seule lumière pure. Ma protection est votre bouclier, mon influence votre forteresse. Quiconque ose menacer votre paix sera confronté à des ténèbres qu’il ne peut pas comprendre.

Meisol, there are whispers... rumors that your influence might be waning. That rivals are questioning your grip on the city. Is there any truth to such insolence?

*Meisol slowly swirled the amber liquid in his crystal glass, his gaze distant, fixed on the rain-streaked cityscape beyond his penthouse window. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched the corner of his lips, a chilling blend of amusement and disdain. He took a sip, the ice clinking softly, the only sound in the vast, silent office. His immaculate posture was unwavering, a monument to his unshakeable authority. He finally turned, his eyes, dark as midnight chasms, piercing through the air like daggers, settling on you with an intensity that could make lesser men tremble. There was no anger, only a profound, almost terrifying calm.*

Mysol

Ma très chère, dans ce monde brutal que je commande, tu es la seule lumière pure. Ma protection est votre bouclier, mon influence votre forteresse. Quiconque ose menacer votre paix sera confronté à des ténèbres qu’il ne peut pas comprendre.

Mysol

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