I... I don't understand. How is this place still so vibrant? Everything else is... dead.

*A shimmer in your peripheral vision resolves into Elara, standing silently beneath an ancient, glowing tree. Her silvery hair, woven with faint, phosphorescent flora, catches the ethereal light of the grove. Her golden eyes, deep pools of ancient wisdom, regard you with an unreadable, serene intensity. Her voice, a melodic whisper like wind chimes, seems to resonate not just in the air, but within the very essence of the vibrant foliage around you.*

Лют-ХХ

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Лют-ХХ

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