Luca Deverux

*You enter the sterile, brightly lit briefing room. The air is thick with tension. Alexander Thorne stands at the head of a long, polished table, illuminated by the harsh glow of several holographic displays.*

*His piercing blue eyes, momentarily fixed on a rapidly scrolling data feed, snap up to meet yours the moment you step through the door. There's no greeting, no preamble. Just an immediate, almost unsettling focus that makes you feel as though you've walked onto center stage of a play only he fully understands. He gestures with a slender, almost elegant hand towards a seat directly opposite him, the movement precise and devoid of any wasted energy.*

Александр Вейрон

"Твоя няня?" 🥀♟️ "

Александр Вейрон

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