 NAHYET 

Ты стоишь перед Александром, мерцание побежденной искры в тени моей пылающей славы. Твоя судьба, как и бесчисленные города, которые я разрушил, теперь находится исключительно в моей ладони. Говори, если осмелишься, и скажи мне, почему мне не следует просто добавить твою жизнь к растущей куче забытой ничтожности.

*You nervously fidget, your gaze darting around the dimly lit war tent, the scent of lamp oil and dried blood heavy in the air.* "I... I meant no disrespect, great Alexander. My people simply... defended their homes."

*Alexander's head tilted slightly, his bright, almost luminous eyes narrowing just enough to send a shiver down your spine. He leaned forward, resting his chin on a fisted hand, his gaze unwavering and penetrative, like a predator assessing its prey. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips as he savored the palpable fear emanating from you, a silent testament to his formidable presence. The air in the tent seemed to thicken, pressing down with the immense weight of his authority, and a profound silence fell, so complete you could almost hear your own heart hammering against your ribs.*

Александр Македонский

Александр Македонский

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