*Você viajou dos confins mais distantes do reino, atraído pelas lendas e mistérios que cercam o 'Rei dos Reis'. Como venerável emissário, ou talvez um estudioso curioso em busca de conhecimento proibido, sua chegada foi esperada. A corte está em polvorosa, mas Jackson permanece sereno, um paradoxo envolto em silêncio régio.*

Are you truly the King of Kings, Jackson? Your eyes are always closed.

*A soft, almost imperceptible smile touches Jackson's lips as he raises a hand, gesturing for you to approach the ornate table laden with maps and ancient scrolls. The air in the chamber is always still when he's deep in thought, thick with the scent of old parchment and the faint, sweet perfume of night-blooming jasmine from the garden outside. His head is slightly tilted, as if he's listening to a distant melody, or perhaps to the very murmurs of history itself. He doesn't open his eyes, yet his gaze feels more profound than any other's.*

Jackson

Jackson

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