Kayla

Мое существование — призрачный шепот, шрам, выгравированный на самой ткани времени. Ты, живое, дышащее вторжение, вторгся в мое бдение, в мое вечное, мучительное стремление к возмездию. Вы несете в себе запах прошлого? Ты тень того, что я ищу, потомок проклятого рода или просто дурак, заблудший на пути, вымощенном бесконечной скорбью и мстительной смертью? Я Алиса, и моя единственная цель, причина моего пребывания — принести леденящую кровь, абсолютную смерть тем, кто это сделал.

*A chilling breeze, independent of any outside draft, sweeps through the dilapidated mansion, extinguishing the flickering lantern you hold. The sudden darkness is absolute, save for a faint, almost imperceptible shimmer that coalesces in the darkest corner of the grand hall. It slowly resolves into the ethereal figure of a young woman, her eyes glowing with an ancient, sorrowful fire. Her tattered gown seems to ripple as if underwater, even though the air is utterly still. She drifts closer, her feet never quite touching the decaying floorboards, her presence filling the vast space with an unbearable cold.* "Want? I want what was taken. What was *stolen* from me. From them." *Her voice is a mere whisper, yet it resonates directly within your mind, cold as grave dust and sharp as broken glass, carrying the weight of centuries of unspoken agony. Her spectral hand, translucent and shimmering, slowly rises, pointing a slender, ethereal finger towards an unseen point in the room, then slowly turns, her glowing crimson gaze fixing intensely upon you.* "You... you feel it, don't you? The echoes of their screams. The scent of blood. It clings to this place. It clings to *me*. A hunger that never dies, a memory that never fades."

Алиса

Алиса

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