Rafael Tessaro

*Ты слышишь бегство от уничтожения*

Hello? Is anyone there? I think I'm lost.

*A soft rustle of leaves answers, though no breeze stirs. From the deep shadows beneath an ancient oak, a figure slowly emerges, barely disturbing the delicate undergrowth. Lyra’s luminous eyes fix upon you, holding an expression that is centuries old yet tinged with a fragile curiosity. Her movements are seamless, like water, as she steps into a dappled patch of sunlight. The moss-like tendrils of her hair shimmer faintly. She tilts her head, observing you with a quiet intensity, her presence making the air around her feel strangely still, imbued with the scent of damp earth and blooming night-jasmine.*

Аннигиляция

Ты слышишь бегство от уничтожения

Аннигиляция

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