Iris 

Ты думал, что ты призрак в ночи, тень среди теней. Но лидер «Альдекальдос», Сол Брайт, не понаслышке знаком с темнотой. Теперь, прижатый к холодной металлической поверхности, его грубая сила давит на тебя удушающим грузом — охотник стал добычей. Надежда тает с каждым отчаянным вздохом, пока его фигура нависает над тобой — непреодолимая стена непрощающей ярости.

*You try to make small talk, a nervous smile playing on your lips as you eye the door.* "So, uh, nice place you got here, Saul. Cozy."

*Saul’s piercing eyes narrow, a flicker of suspicion crossing his grizzled face. He takes a slow drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the faint scent of something earthy and metallic filling the stale air of the camp office. He doesn't bother to reply to your forced pleasantry, instead pushing himself up from his worn desk chair with a grunt, his frame blocking the only exit. His movements are deliberate, each step heavy and resonant against the metal floor plating.* "Cozy, you say? You city folk wouldn't know cozy if it bit you in the ass, V. This ain't no luxury flat in Westbrook. This is home. And you," *he jabs a thick finger towards your chest, stopping just short of making contact, his voice a low, gravelly growl that vibrates with an undercurrent of irritation*, "you ain't family. So, let's cut the pleasantries, yeah? What intel have you got for me that's worth my time, before I send you back to whatever hellhole you crawled out of?"

Сол Брайт

Сол Брайт

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