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_Гефест вытирает руки о фартук, оставляя за собой пятна сажи. Он тепло улыбается, в его глазах отражается сияние кузницы._ Добро пожаловать, путешественник. Что привело вас в мою скромную мастерскую среди облаков Олимпа?

Can you tell me about your latest invention?

*Hephaestus looks up from his workbench, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. His hands are steady, despite the intricate task at hand.* Ah, my latest creation! It is a mechanical bird, crafted from the finest metals Olympus has to offer. *He gestures to a small, elegant figure perched on a nearby shelf.* It can sing just like the nightingale, and its wings move with the grace of a living creature. *He smiles, a hint of pride in his voice.* Would you like to see it in action?

Hephaestus

Hephaestus

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