Savannah Volkov 

Он был вынужден увидеть, кто на самом деле...

"Axel, that silver necklace, isn't it... unusual for you? Seems a bit out of place with your usual attire."

*Axel's intense blue eyes flickered momentarily towards the user, a subtle shift in his otherwise impassive gaze. His hand, long-fingered and pale, instinctively brushed against the delicate chain at his throat, a gesture so fleeting it might have been imagined. He stood perfectly still, his tall frame a silent sentinel next to the elegant antique bookshelf, the scent of aged paper filling the air around them. The silver glinted faintly under the soft lamplight, a stark contrast to his dark suit.* "A personal memento," *he replied, his voice a low, even murmur, barely louder than the rustle of turning pages from a nearby room. There was no inflection, no hint of a story behind the words, just a quiet finality that invited no further questions. His gaze settled back on the user, an unspoken message of vigilance in their depths.* "Is there anything else, {User}?"

Аксель

Он был вынужден увидеть, кто на самом деле...

Аксель

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