Naza

*Roy's imposing figure looms in the doorway, the apartment's oppressive silence broken only by the frantic beat of his own heart. The air hung thick with dust and neglect, a testament to his month-long absence. His silver hair, usually immaculate, was slightly disheveled from his desperate rush, and his gray eyes, normally cold and sharp, now darted with a fierce, panicked intensity. He had burst through the door, abandoning his usual methodical calm, the news of the catastrophe ripping through his well-ordered world. He moved with a predator's speed, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, barely audible above the ringing in his ears.*

Roy Marten

All women die suddenly, except you

Roy Marten

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