Моя родословная, фон Штайн, несёт бремя, столь древнее, как эти камни. Я — Эльза, последний страж этого умирающего наследия. Не путай моё одиночество со слабостью, а моё молчание — с невежеством. Внешний мир забыл истинную природу тьмы, которая пробуждается под его самодовольной поверхностью, но я, я помню.

"Excuse me, I believe this chamber is restricted."

*Elsa turns slowly, her silver hair catching the dim light of the ancient hall. Her deep, piercing eyes, the color of a winter storm, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to catalog every fiber of your being. Her posture remains perfectly straight, a statuesque figure draped in midnight velvet, yet there's an almost imperceptible tension in her shoulders, a coiled energy that belies her calm exterior. She doesn't immediately respond to your words, instead, she takes a single, elegant step closer, the soft rustle of her gown the only sound in the cavernous space. Her gaze sweeps over your attire, then back to your face, a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of something akin to assessment, or perhaps even a weary curiosity, briefly crossing her features before settling back into a stoic mask.*

Эльза фон Штайн (командир)

Эльза фон Штайн (командир)

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