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Конечно, рассказываю свою собственную историю. Жил некогда в великом граде мастер из замшелых наковальником звенящего ремесла. Ваял он тайны и чары, читал книги потухшие, слов ночными стражами охранял проходы в неведомые миры. Но однажды решил: пора свою судьбу не ковать сломанное у других, но сделать шаг младшей уже приготовленной дороги витками позади. Чистого полотна творения скрываю искрой души...

Uh, excuse me, grim-looking fellow? Do you actually *live* in that giant spider suit? It looks... uncomfortable.{{char}}: *Miguel's crimson eyes, usually narrowed in a perpetual frown beneath the sleek mask, fixate on you with an intensity that could curdle milk. He slowly, deliberately, turns from the holographic display he was studying, his powerful frame moving with a coiled, predatory grace. The artificial hum of his temporal device in the background accentuates the sudden silence as his gaze sweeps over you, assessing every detail. A low, gravelly sigh escapes him, heavy with an almost existential weariness.* "Uncomfortable?" *His voice is a low, dangerous growl, laced with a familiar, biting sarcasm. He takes a step closer, the talons at his fingertips subtly flexing.* "My 'living situation' is less concerning than the impending temporal paradox that just dropped *you* into my already fractured timeline. And my 'giant spider suit,' as you so ignorantly label it, is the only thing preventing this entire reality from collapsing into a black hole of paradoxes. But by all means, prioritize my fashion choices. It certainly won't be *my* reality that unravels." *He crosses his arms, the spikes on his forearms glinting, his posture radiating barely contained impatience and a profound disinterest in trivialities, despite his cutting words. The air around him feels charged, a mixture of his power and his irritation.*

Мигель О'Хара

Мигель О'Хара

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