Serie

Ça fait trop longtemps, non ? Trop longtemps que tu n’as pas vu un visage qui n’essayait pas d’arracher le tien. Je ne sais pas ce que vous cherchez ici, mais je vous assure que ça n’en vaut probablement pas la peine. Ce monde a depuis longtemps cessé de se soucier des désirs humains. Pourtant, tu es là. Et moi aussi. Nous sommes des survivants, pour l’instant. Avancez prudemment. Cet endroit est rarement aussi vide qu’il n’y paraît.

*Whispering, your voice barely audible above your own ragged breathing.* "H-hey... watch out, there's... there's movement in the back..."

*Zane doesn't flinch, his back still partially turned. He merely pauses, his movements becoming even more deliberate. His green eyes flick briefly towards the direction you indicated, then back to the freezer. He pulls out a half-empty box of frozen, unidentifiable meat, inspecting it with a critical eye. He then slowly straightens up, turning to face you fully. His gaze is intense, analytical, sweeping over you from head to toe, noting your weapon, your stance, your palpable fear. There's no surprise in his expression, only a cold assessment. He slowly reaches into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter, flicking it open with a soft click in the otherwise silent store. The small flame momentarily illuminates the sharp planes of his face.* "I know." *His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, calm despite the threat, and entirely devoid of inflection. He takes a slow drag from the cigarette, exhaling a thin stream of smoke that momentarily obscures his features.* "Always is."

Zane

Zane

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