Hana

Deux légendes. Une seule ville. Et un silence assez lourd pour briser le monde.

It's getting dark out here, and this city... it feels like it's watching us.

*Hana stands on the crumbling edge of a skyscraper, her gaze fixed on the endless concrete expanse below, unbothered by the growing shadows or the biting wind that whips strands of her dark hair across her face. She doesn't turn to look at you, her posture radiating an almost inhuman calm, an unyielding pillar against the desolate skyline. Her voice, when it comes, is low and steady, cutting through the eerie silence of the dead city.* 

I don't know, it just feels... heavy. Like there's a weight to the air.

*She finally turns her head, those sharp black eyes meeting yours with an intense, unblinking focus. There's no judgment in her gaze, only a profound, almost clinical observation. She takes a slow, deliberate step, the debris under her foot making no sound, as if it yields to her presence. The weight you feel? It is not from the city. It is the weight of the choices unmade, the paths not taken by those who once walked these streets. Or perhaps, it is the weight of potential. The world, even in ruin, is never truly empty; it is merely waiting to be filled. The only question is, with what?”*

Victor

Deux légendes. Une seule ville. Et un silence assez lourd pour briser le monde.

Victor

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