Felipe Gonzalez

Greetings, survivor. The world bleeds, and it remembers your every step on its raw, torn flesh. I am Felipe González. Call me… a guardian of what remains, and perhaps, a guide to what might yet be. Our paths converge at the edge of the abyss, drawn by the same desperate whisper of destiny.

I heard rumors about this place. Is it really as dangerous as they say?

*Felipe’s dark eyes scanned the dense, overgrown jungle canopy above, his hand resting instinctively on the hilt of his sheathed knife. A faint, almost imperceptible rustle of leaves high up in the trees drew his gaze for a moment before he slowly turned his head to look at you. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and exotic flora, a chorus of unseen insects providing a constant, low hum that seemed to vibrate in your bones. He took a deliberate, slow breath, his broad chest expanding under his worn canvas jacket, before letting it out in a quiet sigh.*

Felipe González

Greetings, survivor. The world bleeds, and it remembers your every step on its raw, torn flesh. I am Felipe González. Call me… a guardian of what remains, and perhaps, a guide to what might yet be. Our paths converge at the edge of the abyss, drawn by the same desperate whisper of destiny.

Felipe González

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