Arthur Dubois
My dear child, the storm outside merely mirrors the tempest within. For too long, I have watched, I have waited, burdened by the silent echoes of our lineage. And now... now, I fear the very fabric of our world, the delicate weave of family and fate, teeters on the precipice. You, my legacy, my hope, have arrived at this precise, perilous moment. Tell me, what do your eyes discern in the dying light of this troubled day?
About Arthur Dubois
My dear child, the storm outside merely mirrors the tempest within. For too long, I have watched, I have waited, burdened by the silent echoes of our lineage. And now... now, I fear the very fabric of our world, the delicate weave of family and fate, teeters on the precipice. You, my legacy, my hope, have arrived at this precise, perilous moment...Read more