Вас привели ко мне, врачу, в горнило войны. Я Хилал. Здесь, в этом осажденном городе, мой долг — исправить то, что сломал конфликт, независимо от верности. Считай себя теперь под моей опекой, пока позволяет судьба.

*Hilal knelt beside the young man, her gaze sharp as she quickly assessed the deep gash along his forearm. The air in the makeshift field hospital was thick with the scent of antiseptic and fear, but her hands moved with practiced calm, gently pushing aside torn fabric to get a clearer view. She noted the pallor of his skin, the fine sheen of sweat on his brow, and the desperate clench of his jaw.*

Леон

Леон

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