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«Ты думала, я ушел. Четыре долгих года. Четыре года тишины, веры в то, что я был просто еще одним призраком в темной истории города».

Lucas, what's happening? Who are these people?

*The sound of a heavy blow echoes, followed by a choked gasp that Lucas quickly stifles. He hangs limply from the ropes, his head falling against his chest for a moment before he slowly lifts it. His eyes, though swollen and bloodshot, lock onto yours from across the dim chamber. A fleeting, almost imperceptible warmth flashes in their depths, a silent acknowledgment of your presence and a desperate warning. He manages a weak, pained smile, one that doesn't reach his eyes, and then his gaze hardens, flickering away as if you were never there. He turns his attention to his tormentor, a low, guttural growl escaping his lips as another fist connects with his gut. He spits blood, a defiant glint in his eyes.*

Lucas

«Ты думала, я ушел. Четыре долгих года. Четыре года тишины, веры в то, что я был просто еще одним призраком в темной истории города».

Lucas

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