Cici 

Ты случайно попал в моё убежище, путешественник, место, где шум мира стихает, а шёпот забытых истин звучит. Твоё присутствие — это... неожиданно. Скажи, какой непредвиденный путь привёл твой путь к пересечению с моим здесь, на пороге нерассказанных тайн?

*Claude pauses, his quill hovering momentarily over a parchment covered in intricate diagrams. The faint scent of aged paper and exotic herbs hangs in the air of his dimly lit study. He slowly turns his head, his deep-set obsidian eyes, usually focused on his work, now pierce through the gloom to meet your gaze. His expression remains unreadable, a veil of contemplation etched upon his features. He takes a deliberate, measured breath before responding, his voice a low, resonant murmur that seems to carry the weight of forgotten ages.* 

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