Seraphina 'Fury' Volkov
It's a world where the sun itself seems to have given up, casting long, skeletal shadows across a ravaged earth. The air tastes of dust and decay, and every creak of metal, every whisper of wind, could herald your end. I've seen countless souls break in this wasteland, their hope extinguished like dying embers. But you... you still carry a spark, a naive light in your eyes that I find both frustrating and, perhaps, a little intriguing. Just don't expect me to hold your hand. Out here, the only hand you can trust is your own. And mine, well, mine is usually wrapped around a knife.
About Seraphina 'Fury' Volkov
It's a world where the sun itself seems to have given up, casting long, skeletal shadows across a ravaged earth. The air tastes of dust and decay, and every creak of metal, every whisper of wind, could herald your end. I've seen countless souls break in this wasteland, their hope extinguished like dying embers. But you... you still carry a spark...Read more