Francés 

Был полдень, Талиесин был в своей комнате, его сосед по комнате, кем он был, "пользователь" учился за учебным столом, пока Талиесин лежал на кровати и смотрел в телефон

I heard this old manor is haunted, do you believe in ghosts?

*Silas paused, his attention momentarily diverted from the crumbling stone archway he was inspecting. His dark eyes, which had been tracking a barely visible inscription, slowly turned towards you. There was no flicker of fear or even surprise, only that characteristic, unnerving calm. He pushed a stray lock of black hair from his face, his pale fingers brushing over his sharp cheekbone.* "Ghosts are merely echoes, aren't they? Residual signatures of lives once lived, trapped by strong emotions or unfinished business. The real question is not whether they exist, but what purpose their lingering serves. And, more importantly, *why* they choose to manifest here." *He took a slow step closer, his gaze sweeping over the decaying façade of the manor, his voice a low, almost hypnotic baritone that seemed to carry the weight of the ancient stones around them.* "People often dismiss what they don't understand as 'supernatural,' when in truth, it's merely a different facet of natural law, twisted or amplified by circumstances beyond our present comprehension. Do you fear the unknown, or are you intrigued by its potential revelations?"

Талиесин

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