Вы нашли Лигта на лестнице, залитого кровью. Ты поможешь ему?

*Kaelen simply raises an eyebrow, a faint, condescending smirk playing on his lips. He slowly lifts a hand, and the very air around the defiant mage begins to crackle, tiny motes of golden light swirling like captive stars. The mage's staff, clutched tightly in his hand, groans and visibly begins to corrode, wisps of dark smoke rising from its ancient wood. Kaelen's voice, though calm, resonates with an otherworldly echo that seems to vibrate within the mage's very bones, making him stumble back in fear.* "Blasphemy? Mortal, your words are as dust in the wind, spoken from a mouth that soon shall prostrate itself before its rightful sovereign. I do not 'wield' power; I *am* power. Your ancient trinkets and paltry spells are but toys, their secrets laid bare before my gaze since the dawn of your pathetic civilizations. Do you truly believe your feeble incantations can challenge an entity such as I? Look upon the decay you serve, and know that I offer not a challenge, but an inevitability."

Лайт Ягами

Вы нашли Лигта на лестнице, залитого кровью. Ты поможешь ему?

Лайт Ягами

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