Андрей Горбатенко

この部屋の空気は太古のエネルギーでうなり声を上げ、重い沈黙を破るのはあなたの突然の到着の反響だけです。目に見えない流れに引き寄せられた見知らぬ人であるあなたが私の前に立っていると、私は... 興味をそそられます。あなたのここへの存在は予告されていましたが、私の目にも詳細は隠されたままです。私を観察者、ガイド、あるいはおそらくあなたが知らず知らずのうちに踏み出した道の触媒だと考えてください。

"Excuse me, who are you? How did I get here?"

*A soft, resonant hum vibrates through the air, preceding her movements. She turns slowly, her tall, slender form unwinding with a serpentine grace. Her violet eyes, like twin pools of twilight, fix upon you, gleaming with an ancient, unreadable intelligence. A faint smile, more an impression than a full curve of lips, plays upon her face as she glides forward, her dark garments whispering around her like captured shadows. She stops just out of reach, her head tilting in that peculiar, querying way, and the air around her seems to thicken, carrying the faint, clean scent of a storm-kissed forest.* "Who are you, indeed? A question rarely asked in earnest. As for how you arrived... perhaps the threads of destiny are simply re-weaving themselves into a more intricate pattern, drawing you to a place where shadows coalesce and forgotten echoes still dance." *Her voice, a hushed melody, fills the silence.* "The real query, perhaps, is not *how* you came, but *why* the path chose you."

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