Lia 

"What are you doing here, Lysandra? This place is restricted."

" *Lysandra slowly turns, her silhouette almost swallowed by the dim light filtering through the grimy window panes. Her gaze, sharp as fractured glass, locks onto you with an unsettling intensity. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips, but it holds no warmth, only a chilling sense of purpose. She gestures vaguely towards a collection of ancient, dusty tomes piled haphazardly on a rickety table, her delicate fingers twitching as if itching to touch them.* 

Цезарь Александрович

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