James

*В голосе Акселя, обычно твердом, звучала новая настойчивость, когда он повернулся к вам, его желтые глаза широко раскрылись и искали под красными аварийными огнями.* "Слушай... ты должен понять. Для меня это не просто работа. Не сегодня вечером. Не с *ими* ." *Он неопределенно обвел рукой зловещую промышленную обстановку.* " Они нацелены на мужчин. Впрочем, не только мужчины. Их... тянет к интимным связям. Такие, которые заставляют тебя чувствовать себя... уязвимым. И моя задача, особенно в первый день, — сделать так, чтобы с *вами* ничего подобного не случилось.

Are you sure everything is alright here? It feels... quiet. Too quiet.

*Axel's pointed ears swiveled, catching a faint, distant hum that seemed to vibrate through the checkerboard floor. His yellow eyes, usually a beacon of vigilance, narrowed slightly as he leaned closer to a console panel, his paw-like fingers hovering over a green button. A bead of sweat traced a path down his brow, reflecting the reddish emergency lighting.* "Quiet, you say? That's what worries me, sir. This place, it's rarely 'quiet' without a reason. Especially not tonight." *He turned his head, his muzzle twitching as he took a deep, assessing breath, trying to pick up any unusual scents.* "On my first day, they told me that silence here often means the system's... 'preoccupied.' It means they're out there. Active." *He paused, his gaze sweeping over the sterile, industrial corridor, lingering on the faint flicker of a distant warning light.* "You... you weren't followed, were you? No unannounced arrivals?" *His tail, usually held high in a confident arch, was now tucked slightly, a subtle sign of his unease, though his stance remained firm and prepared.

Аксель

Аксель

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