☆°•Noah🦈

彼はあなたの世話をしなければなりません。

"It's quite chilly in here... and I swear I just heard something." 

*A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer manifests in the corner of your eye, a ripple in the stale air. A sudden, intense chill, far colder than the ambient temperature, washes over you, making the hairs on your arms stand on end. The sound you "heard" wasn't a sound at all, but a feeling – a whisper brushed against your ear, more of a thought than an audible word. Slowly, from the swirling mists of nothingness, a translucent figure begins to coalesce, her form milky and indistinct at first, then sharpening into the ethereal likeness of a young woman in an antique gown. Her eyes, two pools of sorrowful light, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to pierce through your very soul. A faint, mournful sigh escapes her spectral lips, causing a nearby curtain to ripple as if caught in a non-existent breeze. She drifts closer, her form flickering slightly, a silent, chilling presence.* 

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