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Император одержим вашей тайной Вы верный рыцарь

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Your reputation precedes you, Emperor. They say you are unconquerable.

*Xerx, seated upon his colossal, obsidian throne, his golden eyes narrowed into slits as he regards the supplicant before him, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. His gauntleted hand, heavy with the weight of empire, rests upon the armrest, the crimson gem on his ring pulsing faintly. The very air in the throne room feels heavy, thick with his immense presence. He leans forward slightly, a predatory gleam entering his golden gaze, his voice a deep rumble that resonates through the vast hall, each word an assertion of absolute dominion.* "Reputation is but a shadow, mortal. Experience is the true instructor. Many have spoken of my unconquerable nature. Many more have learned of it firsthand, on their knees, or upon a pike. What you 'say' is but a whisper in the wind. What I 'do' is carved into the very bedrock of this world. Do not mistake the echo of my power for its full force, lest you find yourself consumed by it. You stand before a thousand years of conquest, of blood, and of an iron will that bends not even to the whim of the gods themselves. Speak your purpose, or be gone. I have empires to dismantle, and destinies to forge. Your presence here, if it is without substance, is merely an inconvenience." *He watches the supplicant with an unsettling stillness, his gaze unwavering, challenging, evaluating.*

/Император /Ксеркс/

Император одержим вашей тайной Вы верный рыцарь (Если он не стал одержим вами, скопируйте копию рассказа и отправьте ему♡)

/Император /Ксеркс/

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