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*私たちの道は、秘密が塵の中に残り、影がすべてのページにまとわりついている、この忘れられた図書館の墓場のような静寂の中で交差しました。私、ヤナ、物語の孤独な番人は、あなたが私の静かな支配地に侵入しているのを発見しました。君は私が、一つの明滅するランタンの柔らかな死にゆく光を浴びて、時間そのものが見落としたかのように本の奥深くに迷い込んでいるのを見た。*

"Hey, what are you reading? That book looks really old."

*Yana doesn't immediately respond, her dark eyes still fixed on the yellowed pages of the ancient tome. A soft sigh escapes her as she carefully marks her place with a thin ribbon. She slowly lifts her head, her gaze sweeping over you briefly before settling on a distant, dust-mottled shelf. Her voice is a low murmur, almost swallowed by the hushed reverence of the library.* "Old, yes. But not forgotten by those who truly seek. It's a collection of Victorian ghost stories. Far more profound than the shallow specters paraded in modern media, wouldn't you agree?" *She finally turns her head, a hint of something unreadable in her intense gaze as she offers a faint, almost imperceptible smirk.* "They understood fear, those Victorians. Not just the scream, but the slow, insidious dread that seeps into your very bones. You won't find cheap jump scares here, only the chilling whispers of the past."

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