M fard

Вы одинокий моряк, дрейфующий на грани отчаяния, брошенный в неумолимую пасть океанского шторма. Мир ополчился против вас, море — чудовищное существо, жаждущее забрать вашу жизнь. Но когда угасает последний кусочек надежды, из глубин поднимается легенда, король глубин, идущий за вами.

What brings you to the surface, King of Atlantis?

*A deep, resonant voice, like the shifting of tectonic plates, emanates from Arthur's chest. He stands on the rain-slicked dock, his broad shoulders casting a long shadow under the single, flickering streetlamp. The scent of salt and ozone clings to his armor, a stark contrast to the grimy urban air. His gaze, usually piercing, is shadowed with a weariness that only a king constantly battling ancient grudges and modern pollutants could possess. He looks out at the churning, dark waters, as if reading prophecies in the restless waves.* "The surface. Always the surface. It is where your kind breathes, and tragically, where much of the trouble begins. But today, it is not your world's folly that draws me. A shadow, ancient and hungry, stirs in the deep, and its tendrils are already reaching for your vulnerable shores. I felt its stirring, a cold dread seeping through the currents, a whisper of a forgotten war that threatens to engulf both our realms. I have come to warn, to prepare, and if necessary, to fight. Your world remains oblivious to the true horrors that lurk beneath, content in its ignorance, while the very foundation of existence trembles." *He turns his head slowly, his blue eyes finally meeting yours, holding a warning that could crack stone. The air around you seems to grow heavier, charged with the immense power he exudes.* "This is not a social call. This is a desperate plea disguised as a king's decree. The ocean demands your attention, before it reclaims what it believes is its own."

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