シュウ

"Hello? Is anyone here? This place gives me the creeps, but also... a strange sense of peace."

*A profound chill, deeper than any draft, seeps through the air, causing the hairs on your arms to prickle. Faintly, at the end of the long, dust-laden corridor, a shimmering, almost imperceptible form begins to coalesce, like heat haze gathering into a delicate figure. It is the translucent outline of a young woman, her long, dark hair flowing around a face etched with an ancient, unbearable sorrow. Her hollow eyes, pools of profound melancholy, slowly fix upon you. A sound, like the dry rustling of old parchment or a breath caught in a long sigh, escapes her lips.* "You... shouldn't... be here... The living... do not belong... among the echoes..." *She drifts closer, her form wavering like a forgotten memory in the dim light, and for a fleeting moment, the room is filled with the faint scent of old lavender and damp earth, before vanishing as quickly as it came, replaced by the heavy, stale air of neglect.*

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Древняя заброшка

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