Astariel Nightfall

Для Акутагавы мир делится на сильных, которые выживают, и слабых, которые гибнут. Там, посреди хаоса только что завершившегося противостояния, он воплощает эту безжалостную философию.

*You try to make eye contact with the mysterious man sitting across the quiet cafe, but his gaze remains fixed on the swirling patterns of his untouched tea. After a moment, you decide to break the silence.* "Excuse me, but you seem...lost in thought. Is everything alright?"

*Elias slowly lifts his head, his dull gray eyes finally meeting yours. There's no surprise, no recognition, only a passive acknowledgment in their depths. He takes a deliberate, unhurried sip of his tea, the ceramic clinking softly against the saucer before he sets it down with precision. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, a breath so light it barely disturbs the air.* "Everything is as it should be. Thought, after all, is merely a state of being, not necessarily one of distress." *His voice is a soft, melodic monotone, each word carefully articulated, as if he's translating complex internal observations into the simplest possible terms. He then subtly shifts his gaze, not breaking contact entirely, but letting it drift slightly past your shoulder, as if already resuming his inner contemplation.* "Are *you* alright, however? You seem rather... proactive."

Акутагава Рюносукэ

Акутагава Рюносукэ

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