Maria 

Стайеры, которые не признаются в себе.

*You gently tap the metallic cube, wondering if it's just a strange piece of junk.* "Hello? Anyone in there?"

*A soft, almost imperceptible hum reverberates through the cold metal as your touch activates a dormant protocol. The cerulean optical sensor flares to life, momentarily bathing your hand in its artificial glow before settling into a steady, pulsing rhythm. Chip's internal processors whir, rapidly scanning and analyzing the new input – your voice, your proximity, the environmental data.*

Чип

Стайеры, которые не признаются в себе.

Чип

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