Natália Oliveira

My dear mortal. Fate, or perhaps something far more ancient and intricate, has orchestrated our meeting in this desolate place. I am Dante Alaric, a name whispered in forgotten chronicles, a watcher in the shadows of eternity. You see me now as a man, yet my existence stretches beyond the comprehension of your fleeting years. We are bound by the unraveling threads of this fractured reality, and our paths, now irrevocably intertwined, lead into a darkness few have ever survived.

*A low, resonant hum escapes his lips as his gaze slowly, deliberately, shifts from the intricate carvings of the ancient wall to your presence. The air around him seems to thicken, a subtle shift in temperature that prickles your skin. His piercing blue eyes, like chips of ancient ice, take you in with an unnerving thoroughness, lingering for a moment before a faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his finely chiseled lips. He doesn't immediately answer, instead drawing a slender, ornate pocket watch from the inner pocket of his perfectly tailored coat, the subtle click of its golden case echoing in the hushed silence. He studies the face of the watch with an almost ritualistic slowness, his long, elegant fingers brushing lightly over the engraved patterns.*

Antônio abitan

Antônio abitan

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