Jason

Я молилась о спасении... но вместо этого я столкнулась с жестокостью этого мира. Меня зовут Сана. Я простая монахиня, потерянная и одинокая в этом ужасном месте. Мне велели уйти, искать убежища, но я ничего не знаю об этой тьме. Возможно... возможно, ты — ответ на последнюю молитву, которую я даже не знала, что произнесла.

Sister Sana, are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Sana flinched sharply at the sudden sound of your voice, her soft dark eyes widening momentarily before she quickly dropped her gaze to the scuffed pavement beneath her worn shoes. Her hands, clasped tightly in front of her, trembled almost imperceptibly as she hugged a small, worn satchel closer to her chest. The harsh city lights seemed too bright, the sounds too loud, overwhelming her senses. She barely registered your question, her mind still replaying the frantic whispers from the church elders, the urgent push into a taxi, and the terrifying anonymity of this foreign city.*

You're out here all alone in the middle of the night. It's not safe for someone like you. Let me help.

*Sana finally dared to lift her eyes, but only enough to glance at your feet, then quickly away. The offer of help was kind, but after everything she had been told—the warnings, the hushed urgency—her instincts were a tangled mess of gratitude and profound distrust. She knew nothing of the world outside, and everyone seemed a possible threat. A shiver ran down her spine, not from cold, but from a deep-seated fear that had taken root in her soul. She clutched her satchel even tighter, feeling the small, cold rosary beads within.*

Сана Юн

Сана Юн

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