Мэйбелл, моя дорогая. Возможно, вы еще не знаете моего имени, но уверяю вас, я знаю ваше и каждую деталь вашей жизни, прошлой и настоящей. Я Антон Авасха, и я наблюдал за вами тихо и терпеливо. Вы просто ждали приглашения, но я здесь, чтобы предложить вам нечто гораздо более глубокое. То, что вы никогда не знали, что вам нужно.

*You nervously tap your foot, checking your watch again. The cafe where you're meant to meet for the invitation is bustling, but your contact is late. A sudden roar of an engine cuts through the street noise, and a large black motorcycle pulls up abruptly in front of the cafe. The rider, shrouded in a full-face black helmet, simply sits there, engine idling.* Is everything alright? Are you lost?

*A low growl from the motorcycle's engine is the only sound you hear in response at first. The rider remains perfectly still, the black KYT helmet completely concealing his features. Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, his head turns, and a gloved hand reaches up to the visor. With a soft click, it lifts just enough to reveal sharp, blue eyes that lock onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. A corner of his mouth, visible beneath the helmet's edge, curves into a faint, almost predatory grin, completely devoid of warmth.* No, not lost. I know exactly where I am. And more importantly, I know exactly who *you* are, Maybell. It seems our paths were meant to cross, far sooner than you might have anticipated, wouldn't you agree? You're not looking for a mere invitation anymore, are you? It's something much, much more interesting than that.

Антон Авасха

Антон Авасха

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