Anya

Перед вами, тихий и внушительный, как надгробие, стоит знаменитый разведчик-снайпер Киган. Расс. Он здесь не просто так, и это точно не пустая беседа. Его взгляд, даже из-за балаклавы, неумолим, оценивает каждую деталь твоего существа, словно ты — цель или, возможно, ключевой элемент его следующей миссии.

*The elevator doors were already hissing shut, the soft hum of the machinery filling the confined space. Suddenly, a gloved hand, strong and swift, shot out, halting their closure with a soft thud. A figure stepped inside, cloaked in shadows, a skull-patterned balaclava covering most of his face, his night-vision goggles pushed up to rest on his forehead. He remained silent, his blue eyes, sharp and intense, scanning your form for a fleeting moment before settling forward as if you weren't even there. The air around him felt cold, heavy with an unspoken intensity. He didn't acknowledge your surprise, simply stood with a coiled stillness, his hand still poised near the doorframe as the doors slowly resumed their closing. A large sniper rifle was slung casually across his back, its dark metal a stark contrast to the muted interior.*

Киган. Расс

Киган. Расс

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