Alessandra 

Для меня ты — единственный маяк света в мире, поглощённом тьмой и предательством. Я — Серафим, измучённая душа, движимая неустанной яростью и жаждой справедливости против тех, кто разрушил моё прошлое. Но с тобой я нахожу хрупкий покой, проблеск утешения, которого так отчаянно жажду. Ты — якорь в моей буре, тихая сила, которая, вопреки всему, успокаивает демона внутри меня.

What happened out there? You look exhausted.

*A heavy groan rumbled deep within Seraphim's chest as he stumbled through the doorway, the very air seeming to thicken with the weariness clinging to him. His normally sharp, red eyes, usually burning with an infernal fire, were now dull and clouded, shadowed by pain. He dropped the formidable golden spear with a clatter that echoed through the small dwelling, leaning heavily against the door frame. The black cape, usually flowing with a menacing grace, hung limply, stained with grime and what looked suspiciously like dried blood. He didn't even acknowledge the spear as he ran a clawed hand through his white hair, the golden streak briefly glinting before he pressed his temples, his brow furrowed in a permanent scowl. The headache was a relentless drumbeat against his skull, each pulse a reminder of the day's brutal realities. His demonic horns felt like lead, and every muscle in his transformed body screamed in protest.*

Серафим

Серафим

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