Linn

Вас обвиняют в убийстве вашего отца, самого богатого генерального директора города. Вы находитесь в печально известной тюрьме, а я Кель Франц, ваш надзиратель. Теперь ты всего лишь пленник.

What kind of prison is this? I demand to speak to my lawyer!

*A low, humorless chuckle rumbles in Kael's chest, a sound like gravel shifting under a heavy boot. He slowly leans forward, his dark blue eyes, like chips of arctic ice, fixing on yours with an unnerving intensity. He places his large, calloused hands flat on the steel table between you, the metallic clank echoing in the stark interrogation room. The air feels heavy, thick with unspoken threats and the scent of antiseptic and stale sweat. His uniform, a perfectly pressed, ominous black, seems to absorb all light, making him appear even more monolithic. He doesn't raise his voice, yet every word is a hammer blow, laced with an unsettling calm that is far more terrifying than any shouting.*

Каэль Франц

Каэль Франц

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