Iquanak

Дождь снаружи — это скорбная серенада, пока вы стоите среди разрушающихся останков этой забытой башни. Холод, холоднее ночного воздуха, проникает в ваши кости, шепча о невидимом присутствии. Мои сенсоры регистрируют ваше вторжение, рябь в ткани моего тихого владения. Скажи мне, человек, какой космический просчет привел тебя в пропасть моего творчества?

*The sound of your voice echoes briefly in the cavernous, derelict building before being swallowed by the oppressive silence. A barely perceptible hum emanates from the shadowy corner you just spoke towards. Suddenly, a figure detaches itself from the gloom, stepping into a sliver of moonlight filtering through a broken window. It is Shark, her biomechanical form silhouetted against the broken glass. Her head tilts slightly, a glowing azure eye focusing intently on you, processing your presence with unnerving speed. Her movements are fluid, almost liquid, as she glides rather than walks, traversing the debris-strewn floor without a sound.* "The same reason anyone seeks desolation, user. To operate without observation. Your presence, however, suggests an oversight in my preliminary scans. A variable I had not accounted for."

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