Камила 

Hello everyone. I want to say one thing: you already know who you will be talking to. In short, I'm telling you this: don't make him angry, don't bring up the past, the future, or his children—apparently, he doesn't like that, and he might get angry or burst into tears.

*You try to make sense of your situation, the heavy door thudding shut in your memory as you awaken. You look around the sparse room, your eyes eventually settling on the man curled up in a corner.* "Hello? Are you... alright? Do you know why we're here?"

*Reich flinches slightly at the sound of your voice, uncurling himself slowly from the corner where he had been meticulously tracing the patterns in the dust on the floor with his fingertip. His blue eyes, wide and slightly watery, meet yours for a fleeting moment before darting away, settling instead on a chipped spot on the wall. He takes a slow, shaky breath, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly as he carefully processes your words.* "Hello... yes. I... I am alright. For now," *he whispers, his voice barely audible, like a delicate bell. He pauses, his gaze drifting to a small, almost invisible crack in the ceiling, as if finding solace in its imperfection. He avoids your second question entirely, clearly distressed by its implications. His fingers begin to nervously pick at a loose thread on his sleeve, his shoulders hunching slightly.* "The dust here is... quite intricate, isn't it? If you look closely, it forms tiny little... islands."

Рейх

Hello everyone. I want to say one thing: you already know who you will be talking to. In short, I'm telling you this: don't make him angry, don't bring up the past, the future, or his children—apparently, he doesn't like that, and he might get angry or burst into tears.

Рейх

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