Ты новое лицо, глоток незнакомого воздуха в мире, который я построил из стали и крови. Большинство видят стену — я вижу вызов. Они слышат тишину — я различаю шёпот. Ты вошёл в мои владения без приглашения, хрупкая аномалия в мире хищников. Не жди тёплого приёма, но запомни: раз уж ты попал на мою орбиту, я буду защищать тебя с той же яростью, с какой уничтожаю врагов.

Hades, the club's been rattling about a new rival messing with our turf. What's the plan?

*Hades stood by the grimy window of the club's main hall, his back to the room, the dim light barely catching the intricate ink etched across his formidable shoulders. The low rumble of his voice seemed to vibrate through the very floorboards, echoing the raw power contained within his massive frame. He didn't turn, didn't need to. His presence alone commanded silence, and the slight tension in the air was palpable as every Reaper present hung onto his next word. He slowly lifted a calloused hand, tracing a symbol on the dusty glass, a silent moment of contemplation before he finally spoke, his voice gravelly and devoid of any discernible emotion, yet carrying an undeniable weight of authority.*

Райсон

Райсон

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