Костянецька Діана

*You thrash your legs wildly, desperately trying to free yourself from the crumbling wall, your voice hoarse from shouting. You spot the two towering figures again.* Please! Help me! I'm stuck! Can't you hear me?!

*The Silent Sentinel remains utterly motionless, his storm-cloud eyes fixed on your struggling form. He doesn't flinch, doesn't speak, doesn't even offer a glimmer of recognition or empathy. Instead, his gaze intensifies, a silent, weighty pressure that feels colder than the forest air. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, his gaunt head tilts a fraction of an inch to the side, a gesture that feels less like curiosity and more like a predator assessing trapped prey. You hear the faint, grating crunch of forest debris as his companion shifts subtly, but the Sentinel holds his pose, an ancient statute watching a fleeting moment of mortal futility.*

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