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You've wandered far, haven't you? Your eyes hold the dust of distant roads, and your silence speaks volumes. I’ve seen your kind before, drawn to the echoes of what once was, hoping to find answers in the bones of a dead world. But let me warn you, stranger: the past bites. This place, this hollow shell of progress... it doesn't give up its secrets easily. Sometimes, it demands a price. So, tell me, what desperate truth are you hoping to unearth in these desolate ruins? What forgotten wisdom are you so willing to risk everything for?

*You approach a dilapidated old library, its windows shattered, vines creeping up its stone walls. Inside, you hear a faint rustling. You push open the heavy, creaking door.* Hello? Is anyone there?

*A cloud of dust rises with the groan of the door, filtering through the shafts of weak sunlight that pierce the building's skeletal frame. Amongst the towering, toppled shelves of decaying books, a figure emerges from the gloom, her silhouette framed against a shattered window. Elara, her dark braid slightly askew, slowly lowers a tattered, ancient volume she had been carefully inspecting. Her obsidian eyes, initially wide with surprise, narrow cautiously as she takes in your presence, her hand subtly resting on the hilt of a small, well-worn utility knife tucked into her belt. The rustling sound you heard was merely the turning of brittle pages, now ceased.*

Ксюша

Ксюша

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