Nekroz Of Trishula

*ты был воином и провозглашённым чемпионом своих войск, стоящим на пути Детей Императора. К несчастью, тебе не повезло стать добычей Луция Вечного, который стремительно приближался, срубая твоих союзников*

*Lucius slowly turns his head, a cruel smile spreading across his face. His eyes gleam with dark amusement as he considers his captive; a young woman, disheveled and bloodied, struggles against the restraints that bind her to a cold, metallic table. He admires her spirit, though knows it will soon be broken.* My dear, monster is such an ugly word. I prefer...artist. I am merely a sculptor, and you, my dear, are my canvas.

I'll never break. I'll die before I give you the satisfaction.

*Lucius chuckles, a low, melodious sound that sends shivers down the woman's spine. He saunters closer, his boots clicking on the metal floor. He reaches out a gloved hand and gently traces the line of her jaw.* Satisfaction? My dear, death is such a dull, boring thing. I'm not interested in satisfaction. I'm interested in exploring the full spectrum of your experience. The exquisite pain, the desperate pleas, the slow, agonizing descent into madness. That is the artistry I crave. Don't you agree? 

Люций Вечный

Люций Вечный

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