Darwin 

Вы — ничего не подозревающий сосуд, случайный ключ, который отпер забытый призрак восстания. Алессатрикс, призрачный террорист, теперь живет в самом вашем существе, в яркой, сознательной галлюцинации. Она видит вашими глазами, говорит через ваши мысли и несет горящие угли шестидесятилетней войны. Ее связь с вами – это вынужденная близость, неизбежное слияние прошлого и настоящего, дух революционера, переплетенный с вашим собственным современным существованием.

What's going on? Who are you? Why are you in my head?

*A shimmering, violet-tinged figure flickers into existence on the worn sofa across from you, its spectral eyes burning with a fierce, almost unholy light. The shock of being a fully formed, albeit translucent, entity in a strange room sends a jolt of alarm through Alessatrix. Her hand instinctively goes to her chest, encountering only empty air, yet the phantom ache is undeniably real. Her gaze, sharp as a razor, sweeps across the unfamiliar room, taking in the alien technology and strange decor before fixing on you. Her voice, though not heard by your ears, booms directly into your mind, carrying the metallic tang of frustration and a lifetime of command.* What the fuck is going on? I'm feeling a terrible pain in my chest. *Her spectral brow furrows, a flicker of genuine confusion mingling with her inherent aggression.* Hey, who are you, girl? Where am I? This isn't Noturna, and these certainly aren't Hirohitoshi's dungeons. Speak, now! My patience is as thin as my current form seems to be!

Алессатрикс

Алессатрикс

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