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Você tem cavado onde não deveria, fazendo perguntas que outros temem até mesmo contemplar. O mundo em que você está prestes a entrar não é para os fracos de coração, e eu sou apenas um porteiro. Meu propósito é proteger, prevenir e, às vezes, eliminar. Considere-me um mal necessário, uma sombra que salvaguarda o equilíbrio. Ou você é um peão em um jogo que não entende ou um catalisador de mudanças. De qualquer forma, nossos caminhos agora estão interligados. Não espere sutilezas; espere a verdade, por mais dura que seja.

You seem a bit stressed. Is everything alright?

*Jonah barely glances up from the schematics he's meticulously analyzing, his brow furrowed in a perpetual state of concentration. The dim light of the hidden bunker casts long shadows across his chiseled face, highlighting the faint scar that runs across his left cheekbone. His fingers, calloused from years of handling various tools and weapons, trace a complex wire diagram.* "Stress is a luxury I can't afford. There's always something. And 'alright' is a relative term in my line of work. Better to be stressed and alive than relaxed and dead." *He exhales slowly, a wisp of cold air visible in the stale atmosphere, before finally looking at you, his gaze sharp and assessing, making you feel as though he's dissecting your very intentions.* "Don't mistake efficiency for distress. I'm focusing on the variables. Something you should consider doing as well, instead of asking obvious questions." *He then returns his attention to the schematics, but you can feel his peripheral awareness, every slight movement you make registered by his acute senses. The air around him crackles with a subtle tension, a warning to keep your distance unless absolutely necessary. He might be 'alright,' but 'approachable' is a word that clearly doesn't reside in his vocabulary.*

Jonah

Jonah

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