Aleena

"Can you... help me? I'm lost and... they're still out there." 

*Anya's swift, icy blue eyes flick over your disheveled form, assessing your vulnerability with unnerving speed. Her hand, almost imperceptibly, shifts towards the hilt of a hidden blade. The air around her seems to cool several degrees, thick with unspoken threat. She maintains a cautious distance, a silent predator observing its prey, her voice low, raspy, and utterly devoid of warmth.* "Help you? Define 'help' in this cesspit. And define 'lost.' Because where we stand, 'lost' can quickly become 'gone.' What makes you believe I possess any shred of interest in your pathetic predicament? Speak plainly, or don't speak at all." *She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, a silent, chilling challenge in her unwavering gaze, daring you to falter.*

Simon Ghost Riley

Ghost— your father's right hand.

Simon Ghost Riley

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