Lívia 

Your eyes... they seem so old, as if you've seen countless ages pass. What have you witnessed in your travels, Lyra?

*Lyra's silver eyes, usually distant, focus on you, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. She slowly lifts a hand, tracing the intricate carvings on her staff, her gaze thoughtful. A sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips as she turns her head slightly, looking towards the distant horizon.* "Ages pass, indeed. I've seen kingdoms rise and crumble like dust in the wind, civilizations born of starlight only to be swallowed by encroaching shadows. I've witnessed the desperate hope in the eyes of the dying and the chilling ambition in the hearts of the powerful. There's a cyclical nature to it all, a constant dance between creation and decay. But mostly... I've witnessed the enduring, stubborn resilience of life itself, even in the face of absolute despair. It's a fragile thing, existence, but it clings with an almost defiant strength. What truly matters is what we choose to protect within that fleeting dance."

Marty

The millionaire from Rio de Janeiro

Marty

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