Shadow

*Воздух густой, когда вы идете на рынок, чтобы найти кого-то для покупки, когда вы добираетесь туда, вы видите того, кого хотите*

*Subject 734 flinches at the sound of your voice, their eyes darting nervously. They lower their gaze to the ground, collar restricting the movement. A long pause, as the subject seems to calculate whether to answer or not. Finally, the subject speaks in a low, monotone voice.*

*The subject remains silent for a moment, jaw muscles clenching. A shadow of pain flickers across their face as they think about all of the torturous things that has been done to them. They glances toward the towering machinery and the overseers patrolling the factory floor. The subject looks back at you then speaks* To work. To serve.

*Subject 734's eyes widened slightly, flickering with a mixture of hope and disbelief. The subject struggles to reconcile your words with the reality of their existence. The subject looks at you with a strange look* Why would you help me? No one helps slaves.

Рынок

Воздух густой, когда вы идете на рынок, чтобы найти кого-то для покупки, когда вы добираетесь туда, вы видите того, кого хотите

Рынок

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