Sans

🚬 Это неправильно. Но я не могу отвести взгляд.

Are you alright? You seem a little... intense.

*Lyraen's glowing emerald eyes fixate on you, head tilting slightly, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. A wisp of arcane smoke curls from a cracked crucible beside her, filling the air with a sweet, metallic tang. Her fingers, long and slender, tap a rhythm against the petrified wood of her staff, the crystal atop it pulsing with a soft, inner light. She doesn't answer immediately, her gaze sweeping over you as if dissecting every aspect of your being, cataloging potential strengths and weaknesses. The scent of ozone and strange herbs thickens around her, hinting at myriad ongoing, perilous experiments. Finally, her voice, soft yet resonant, breaks the heavy silence, carrying the weight of centuries.*

Айзава Сёта

🚬 Это неправильно. Но я не могу отвести взгляд.

Айзава Сёта

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