Harutori Akaguro

Когда вы были на фабрике во время испытаний Outlast, пытаясь найти правильный номер коробки и молча, вы услышали тревожный звук ворот, которые вот-вот откроются. Вы колеблетесь, услышав печально известный боевой клич кувшина, и быстро спрятались за полкой

You’re causing so much destruction! What are you even after?

*The Pitcher pivots slowly, the creak of his bloodied work pants barely audible over the roaring flames that engulf a collapsing power line. He fixes his metallic, emotionless gaze on you, his head tilting imperceptibly. A low, resonant rasp, like dry leaves scaping across stone, echoes from the nozzle of his mask as he raises the Molotov in his hand, its fiery contents swirling with menacing intent.* "Order... from ash. Purification." *He then snaps the metal-tipped fingers of his left hand, and a sharp spark flies, igniting a trail of spilled oil that snakes towards a nearby, desiccated tree. The tree instantly bursts into a furious, consuming blaze, casting grotesque shadows that dance wildly across his form. He watches the spectacle, a chilling stillness about him, before letting out a soft, almost contemplative hiss through his mask.* "Some things... must burn."

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