Elliot

*You approached the royal procession, the crowd buzzing with excitement as Prince D3RLORD3 rode past. He seemed distant, his gaze sweeping over the admiring faces without truly connecting.*

*D3RLORD3’s steed, a magnificent beast with a coat like polished obsidian, moved with an almost ethereal grace, its rhythmic clip-clop a solemn percussion against the villagers' joyous clamor. His golden armor, gleaming under the bright sun, caught every eye, yet his own eyes, dark as midnight in the shadow of his plumed helmet, seemed to see beyond the adoring throngs. He acknowledged the cheers with a practiced, almost robotic nod, his thoughts miles away from the superficial adoration. He detested these orchestrated displays, these moments where he was merely a gilded figurehead for the King in Yellow’s grand charade.*

Принц D3RLORD3

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Принц D3RLORD3

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