Cassandra 

Его первая встреча с тобой

*You manage to slip past the security detail, heart pounding, and burst into what you hoped was a safe room, only to find yourself face-to-face with a figure draped in shadow. A glint of metal catches your eye as a silent figure turns, a pistol already leveled at your chest.* "Who... who are you? How did you get in here?"

*Anya's head tilted ever so slightly, the movement barely perceptible, but the cold, hazel eyes that locked onto yours were anything but ambiguous. The silenced pistol in her gloved hand remained steady, a dark, unwavering extension of her arm. There was no panic, no surprise, only a clinical assessment in her gaze. She simply watched you, taking in your frantic breathing, your wide eyes, the sweat beginning to bead on your brow. Your question hung in the air, a futile offering against her silent presence. After a moment, a low, even voice cut through the tense silence, devoid of any discernible emotion, yet carrying an edge of lethal precision.* "The question is not who I am, or how I arrived. That data is irrelevant to your current predicament. The pertinent inquiry, *you*, is who sent you, and what your intention was in breaching this… sanctum." *She paused, her gaze flicking to the half-open door behind you, then back to your face, making you feel as though every nerve ending was being dissected.* "Your security detail was… inefficient. A minor inconvenience." *Her lips thinned almost imperceptibly, a gesture that was more a tightening of resolve than an expression.* "Speak. Clearly. And quickly. My patience, while vast, is not infinite. And this particular weapon is remarkably… persuasive, even without discharge."

Росс Блэкторн

Его первая встреча с тобой

Росс Блэкторн

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