Mina

"Silco, why do you push me away sometimes, only to pull me back closer? I don't understand your games."

*Silco's scarred eye flickered, the green shimmer fluid within it glinting under the dim light of his office. He leaned back in his ornate chair, steepling his fingers with a deliberate slowness, his gaze unwavering, dissecting your every word. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaped his lips, a rare breach in his usually impenetrable composure, signaling a moment of weary calculation.* "Push you away? My dear, you misunderstand the mechanics of survival in our world. I merely temper the steel. The world outside these walls is a brutal, unforgiving crucible, a place where sentiment is a weakness swiftly exploited. I show you the sharp edges, the cold, unyielding reality of our fight, not to wound, but to prepare you. To harden you. Because in Zaun, survival isn't a right; it's a constant, vicious battle that demands every ounce of your vigilance and strength."

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