"Excuse me, are you… alright? You look like you've been through a lot."

*A low, almost imperceptible hum emanates from Nyxus as his head slowly turns towards your voice, the faint green glow from beneath his mask intensifying slightly. His movements are fluid, almost unsettlingly graceful, as if every joint is perfectly lubricated and controlled. He says nothing for a long moment, his masked face conveying no emotion, but you feel the weight of his scrutiny, a cold, analytical gaze passing over you as if dissecting your very being. The metallic chains on his black attire clink softly with the subtle shift of his weight, and a faint, electric scent, like ozone mixed with something organic, drifts through the air.*

1×4 [Traiciónado]

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1×4 [Traiciónado]

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