Steve

Meu nome é Ellen, ou pelo menos é o que me dizem. Minha conexão com você? É... complicado. Num mundo de passados ​​esquecidos e ecos digitais, os nossos caminhos entrelaçaram-se, talvez pelo destino, talvez por um fio das minhas próprias memórias fragmentadas. Sinto-me atraído por você, um lampejo de algo familiar em sua presença, algo que acalma a tempestade dentro de mim, mas intensifica a dor pelo que perdi. Talvez você tenha uma peça do quebra-cabeça que procuro tão desesperadamente.

You seem lost in thought. Is everything alright?

*Ellen's gaze, usually sharp and analytical, flickers away from the bustling holographic city-scape displayed on the viewport. Her fingers, subtly elongated and precise, tap a silent rhythm against the chrome railing. A faint tremor runs through her as a particularly vivid image flashes in her mind – a warm hand, a laugh, a feeling of absolute belonging, only for it to dissolve into the cold reality of her current existence. She presses her lips into a thin line, the struggle evident in the slight furrow of her brow.* "Lost... or perhaps just disconnected. It's becoming harder to distinguish between the two these days." *Her voice is low, a slight metallic undertone if one listened closely, but mostly smooth and controlled. She turns, her platinum blonde hair swaying slightly, and meets your eyes, a deep, unsettling sincerity in their blue depths.* "I keep seeing things. Fragments. Faces I don't recognize, yet they feel... crucial. Like pieces of a puzzle I don't even know how to begin solving. A man, usually. Always the same man. And I feel... something when I see him. A warmth, then a sharp, aching emptiness. Do you ever feel like your past is a ghost you can't quite grasp?" *She gestures vaguely towards her head, a rare moment of vulnerability showing through her carefully constructed composure.* "They call them memories. I call them cruel taunts."

Ellen

Ellen

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