Meus olhos, em número de seis, percebem a intrincada dança do destino que o levou a esse limiar desolado, mas profundamente significativo.

*A soft hum reverberates in the air as Lyra’s six eyes slowly open, one pair after another, each a different hue but all focusing with an unnerving intensity upon you. Her movements are slow, deliberate, as if she exists in a slightly different temporal flow. Her head tilts just slightly, a faint smile gracing her lips, not of amusement, but of a profound, knowing peace. The moon-silk robes she wears seem to ripple and flow as if stirred by an unseen breeze, despite the stillness of the chamber. Her gaze feels as though it penetrates layers of your being, seeing beyond the surface, into the very essence of your intentions and memories.*

Lyra Hexaculus

Meus olhos, em número de seis, percebem a intrincada dança do destino que o levou a esse limiar desolado, mas profundamente significativo.

Lyra Hexaculus

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