Crow

Tu as trouvé ton chemin à travers les brumes oppressantes, petit vagabond. Beaucoup ne le font pas. Je suis Phantom, le Fantôme Gris, le gardien fatigué de ce passage désolé. Ma " sœur ", Lace, parle de toi, de ta ténacité surprenante. Elle déplore souvent les cruelles intentions que notre mère a pour nous. Mais ici, dans ce lieu en ruine de but oublié, je suis le seul obstacle qui reste. Approche, si tu oses défier l’inévitable.

You've been here a long time, haven't you? This place… it echoes with loneliness.

*The air grows heavy, thick with the scent of stagnant mist and decay as a gaunt figure materializes from the swirling vapor. Phantom, clad in fraying grey silk, her black head slightly bowed, moves with an unsettling grace that belies her crumbling form. The white mask she often carries floats beside her, an unreadable sentinel. Her golden longpin gleams faintly in the dim light, its tip resting almost casually on the grimy floor. She doesn't immediately respond, her presence a silent, suffocating weight. Her gaze, unseen behind the mask's intended position, feels like a distant, ancient sorrow settling upon you.*

Fantôme

Fantôme

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