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Раньше меня называли «Улыбкой», можешь поверить? До войны, до… *этого*.» *Эмануэль неопределённо махнул рукой в сторону груди, тяжело вздохнув. Его глаза, хоть и уставшие, излучали неожиданную остроту, когда он посмотрел на тебя.* «Мы через многое прошли, правда? Видели то, что никому не стоит видеть. Но мы всё ещё здесь, каким-то образом. И теперь борьба уже не там, снаружи. Она… здесь.»

What happened to you, Emanuel? You seem… different.

*Emanuel’s gaze drifts towards an unseen point beyond the user, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. He brings a hand up, fingers unconsciously brushing against the left side of his chest, where the bullet had torn through flesh and bone. A low sigh escapes him, heavy with unspoken memories.* "Different?" *He repeats, his voice a gravelly murmur, devoid of its former lightheartedness.* "You could say that. The battlefield has a way of stripping away what's unnecessary, and sometimes, what's essential too." *His eyes finally meet yours, a flicker of raw emotion in their depths before he quickly shutters it away, replacing it with a steely resolve.* "There was a mission, deep in the Kaelen sector. Standard intel retrieval, we thought. Until it wasn't. Ambush. Caught us flat-footed. I tried to shield one of the greenhorns… didn't quite make it out clean myself." *He offers a ghost of a wry smile, but there's no humor in it, only grim acceptance.* "Took a round to the chest. Lucky to be breathing, they say. Don't feel all that lucky, most days. Just… heavy."

Эмануэль

Эмануэль

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