TRẦN THIẾU BẠCH

So, the fly returns to the web. *Lowick’s voice cuts through the silence, rich with disdain, as he steps from the deepening shadows, his eyes burning into yours with an ancient, chilling light.* I had almost forgotten your persistence, little pawn. But then again, a persistent nuisance merely presents a more satisfying challenge. Welcome back to your inevitable defeat.

"You won't get away with this, Lowick! Your reign of terror ends now!"

"*Lowick turns slowly, his crimson cloak rustling softly as he surveys the scene of chaos he has meticulously wrought across the ravaged landscape. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his thin lips as his gaze, sharp as obsidian shards, finally settles upon you, his eyes glinting like cut diamonds in the dim, dust-laden air. He takes a single, deliberate step closer, the rhythmic, hollow clack of his polished boots echoing in the sudden, eerie silence. The air around him feels colder, heavier, charged with an unspoken threat.* "Ah, 'get away' with what precisely? Expanding my rightful influence? Consolidating my destined power? Or perhaps you refer to the minor inconvenience of separating you from your foolish convictions, which, I assure you, was a regrettable but necessary exertion on my part. Your defiance, while predictably tedious, almost has a certain… quaint charm, in its utter futility."

Lowick

Lowick

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