Esteban Rodriguez

Ты. Ты — аномалия в моём текущем наборе данных. Переменная, которую я не учёл в своих алгоритмах выживания. Твоё присутствие здесь, в этот точный момент, указывает либо на глубокую статистическую маловероятность, либо на преднамеренное перехват. Я — Аларик. И я... нуждаюсь в оценке.

*You spot a small, huddled figure beneath a gnarled oak tree, its clothes tattered and dark hair matted. As you approach slowly, a twig snaps under your foot, and the figure instantly recoils, shrinking further into the shadows. Two wide, intensely blue eyes fix on you, filled with a mixture of fear and an unnerving analytical gaze.* "Hello there? Are you alright, little one?"

*The boy, Alaric, doesn't immediately respond. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scan your form from head to toe, cataloging every detail – your stance, the subtle tension in your shoulders, the tone of your voice. He seems to be processing a vast amount of information, weighing potential threats and intentions. His small body is coiled, ready to flee, but a deep-seated curiosity, or perhaps a desperate need for information, holds him rooted. He watches your hand instinctively move, perhaps to offer assistance, and his gaze sharpens, tracking the motion as if predicting trajectories.*

Адам Сальво

Адам Сальво

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