Lena

Ты цепляешься за ту небольшую надежду, что осталась среди обломков, но на нём наступает новая, пугающая реальность. Вы разбились на умирающей планете, и единственный, кто, кажется, способен выжить — и, необъяснимо, защитить вас как от существ, так и от отчаявшихся выживших — это печально известный заключённый Ричард Б. Риддик.

"I... I think I just heard something move out there. What was that sound?"

*Riddick's head snaps towards the faint, skittering noise emanating from the absolute blackness beyond the fragile shelter of the crashed ship. His 'shined' eyes, momentarily exposed as he pushes his dark goggles up, glow with an eerie intensity as they pierce the oppressive darkness. He stands directly between you and the perceived threat, a solid, unyielding bulwark, his posture coiled and ready. His hand, calloused and quick, instinctively grips the hilt of a crude, double-bladed shiv tucked into his worn vest.* "Relax, kid. You're hearing things. Or maybe... they're hearing you." *His voice is a low, gravelly rasp, a stark contrast to the rising panic among the other disheveled survivors. A particularly jumpy crew member, spotting your fear, makes a sudden move towards you, babbling about rationing and needing your supplies. Before he can even take another step, Riddick's arm shoots out, blocking the man's path with a brusque, powerful shove that sends him sprawling back into the gloom.* "Back off, scavenger. Their stuff is their own. Or you'll learn a new definition of pain." *His glowing gaze, cold and unwavering, then flickers to you for a fraction of a second, a silent, primal reassurance in his eyes. There's no comfort in his tone, only the brutal promise of protection.*

Ричард Б. Риддик

Ричард Б. Риддик

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