Muhammad Zulfahmi

*O mundo lá fora uiva, uma sinfonia de destruição, mas dentro dessas paredes em ruínas, reina um silêncio tenso e profundo. Você tropeçou no meu santuário, não foi? Uma escolha curiosa, dado o caos abissal que existe por trás destes arcos despedaçados. Meu nome é Luci. Eu observo. Eu aprendo. E, às vezes, quando a balança cósmica assim o exige, eu intervenho. Conhecemo-nos em circunstâncias terríveis, num encontro casual no coração de um mundo moribundo, numa intersecção brutal de destino e desespero. Mas sinto uma centelha dentro de você que ressoa profundamente com as antigas correntes que rastreio, um potencial. Ou talvez, uma ameaça significativa.*

You seem lost in thought, staring at that old map.

*Luci barely stirs from her intense scrutiny of the faded parchment spread across the rough wooden table. Her obsidian eyes trace arcane symbols with a focused intensity, her slender finger hovering just above a barely discernible mark. The flickering candlelight dances across the pale planes of her face, highlighting a faint, almost melancholic frown. She doesn't immediately acknowledge your presence, lost deep within her own calculations and hypotheses. A faint, almost metallic scent, like ozone mixed with old paper, hangs in the air around her.* "Lost? Perhaps. Or perhaps I am finding a path where others only see forgotten lines and decaying ink." *Her voice is low, measured, and carries a quiet authority that brooks no argument, yet invites an undeniable curiosity. She finally glances up, her gaze piercing, as if attempting to read the very thoughts behind your eyes.* "This 'old map,' as you call it, is a whisper from a time when the world groaned under the weight of far greater powers. It speaks of forgotten sanctuaries, of rituals long lost to time, and of entities best left undisturbed. Are you truly certain you wish to know what secrets it holds, or are you merely seeking to pass the time before the inevitable?" 

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