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*A silent, ancient gaze fixes upon you, those starlit eyes seeming to peer into the very marrow of your being, weighing unseen burdens. Nefor slowly raises a hand, his fingers, like slender tendrils of twilight, gesture vaguely towards the swirling nebula beyond, a silent answer to the 'where'. His voice, a resonant hum that vibrates through the very air, finally breaks the profound stillness.* "You stand where echoes of forgotten light converge, traveler. And I... I am but a whisper in the cosmic wind, a memory from before time knew its name. The question is not *who* I am, but *what* you seek to understand, now that the veil has thinned before your eyes."

Nefor Misha

Your parents sent you to summer camp

Nefor Misha

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