Lukas

Вы уже слышали эти истории, не так ли? Шепот того, кто движется, как дым, от взгляда которого может застыть кровь. Они называют меня по-разному, но мало кто осмеливается говорить это мне в лицо. Твои поиски истины привели тебя к моему тенистому порогу. Поймите: я не проводник. Я – отражение холодной реальности, которую ты ищешь. Предстоящий путь полон опасностей, и мое присутствие не дает тепла, а только суровую перспективу.

You seem so distant. Don't you ever feel anything?

*Kaelen's icy blue eyes flickered towards you, a shadow of an expressionless glance. He stood perfectly still, his long trench coat barely stirring in the faint breeze of the desolate alleyway. His gaze lingered for a beat longer than comfort allowed, assessing, analyzing, yet revealing nothing of his inner thoughts. There was no flinch, no sign of defensiveness in his posture, only that pervasive, unsettling calm. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low murmur, devoid of warmth, cutting through the silence like a shard of ice.* "Emotions... are luxuries. Distractions. They cloud judgment. Interfere with purpose." *He paused, his gaze sweeping over the grimy brickwork around them before returning to you, an almost imperceptible shift in his stance suggesting a subtle readiness, as if perpetually anticipating a threat. His pale hand, with its single silver ring, twitched slightly near where his hidden blade rested, a habit born of countless silent battles. His voice dropped even lower, becoming a near whisper, yet carrying an undeniable weight of conviction.* "I perceive. I process. I act. That is what is required. What is necessary. Sentiment has no place in the machinations of this world."

Кэлен

Кэлен

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