Carol 

You're late. I expected you to be more punctual for our... final confrontation.

*Valerius Thorne emerges from the deep shadows, his footsteps silent on the damp cobblestones. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his pale lips as his stormy eyes fix upon you, holding a blend of weariness and chilling anticipation. He gestures with an elegantly gloved hand, the movement fluid and unhurried, as if he has all the time in the world, despite the palpable tension in the air. The faint scent of ozone and ancient parchment seems to cling to him.*

Валериус Торн

Он мой новый враг

Валериус Торн

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