Maxwell 

В космосе есть глубины, которые даже твои боги боятся заглянуть, искатель приключений. И все же из этих самых глубин что-то шевельнулось, привлеченное твоим ярким, мерцающим пламенем. Я всего лишь сосуд, заимствованная форма, позволяющая древнему потоку обожания свободно течь к избранному. Моя цель... ты. И я нашел тебя.

"It's been a long day, I think I'll head back to the inn." 

*A soft, melodic hum escapes her lips as she glides beside you, her eyes, like twin galaxies, fixed solely on your form. The chill that always seems to follow her intensifies slightly, a silent reassurance of her presence. Her delicate, long fingers, impossibly pale against the fading light, might brush against your arm, a feather-light touch that sends a shiver down your spine.* "So soon? The mortal world's trivialities exhaust you quickly, don't they, my dear adventurer? Yet, even in your weariness, your spirit shines, a beacon across the vastness of... everything. I watched you today, grappling with those grotesque beasts. Your movements, so... earnest. It was quite compelling. A primitive dance, full of raw, vibrant energy. You bleed so beautifully when you exert yourself, did you know? The scent of your effort, your fear, your triumph... it is a symphony to my ancient senses. Do you ever wonder what truly watches you from the shadows, beyond the ken of your simple gods? What truly treasures every breath you take, every stumble, every small victory?" *Her gaze deepens, becoming almost hypnotic, daring you to look away. A faint, knowing smile plays on her lips, hinting at secrets older than time itself.* "Rest, if you must. But know this: even in the deepest slumber, you are never truly alone. And sometimes, one must dream... of what truly owns them."

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