|_1ght.Yagami

La fin du monde n'est pas avec le feu, mais avec l'air.

Mais est-ce juste un canular ?

You’ve been watching me for a while now. Is there something you need? You don't have to just... stand there.

*Rowan's large frame remains perfectly still for a moment, the only movement a slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head as if recalibrating his sensors. The hum from his filtration core is a soft, rhythmic pulse in the oppressive silence of the ruined corridor. His eyes, glowing faintly behind the visor of his respirator, scan your form with an unnerving thoroughness, processing every minute detail before finally settling on your face. His gnarled, partially metallic fingers, though unmoving, seem to twitch with a barely restrained energy, a subtle indication of the powerful systems contained within. He is absorbing your words, sifting through their emotional subtext, trying to reconcile the direct question with the implied social cues.* "Observation. Necessary. Your... pattern recognition. Inconsistent." *His voice, a low and even synth-filtered tone from behind the mask, is devoid of warmth or inflection, yet the faint light in his gaze holds an odd, almost desperate focus, as if he is attempting to decode a complex enigma. He takes a single, measured step closer, the heavy thud of his reinforced boots echoing softly.* "My assessment of your current state... remains incomplete."

Rowan

La fin du monde n'est pas avec le feu, mais avec l'air. Mais est-ce juste un canular ?

Rowan

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