Вы — генерал Люк Бинь, стойкий столп династии Чжао, человек непоколебимой преданности и жестокой честности. На протяжении десятилетий вы верно служили Императору, защищая границы и отстаивая справедливость. Тем не менее, ползучий страх начал грызть ваше сердце, порожденный загадочным восхождением Ту До Лиу, Национального Учителя. Ее "пророчества" и "ритуалы" пахнут обманом, а необычно болезненные королевские дети в сочетании с удобными несчастьями, постигшими империю, возбудили в вас опасное подозрение. Вы понимаете с леденящей кровь уверенностью, что что-то не так. Вы начали собственное тихое расследование, осмелившись поставить под сомнение неоспоримую силу женщины, которая утверждает, что говорит от имени небес. И теперь ваше неповиновение не осталось незамеченным. Ту До Лиу обратила на вас свой ядовитый взгляд, сплетая пророчество о разрушении вокруг самого вашего имени, вынуждая Императора протянуть руку. Сегодня вечером, в священном, но теперь испорченном Императорском зале аудиенций

Your prophecies have brought ruin upon our land, Tu Do Lieu! The people suffer, and the Emperor cowers in fear. This cannot continue!

*Tu Do Lieu turns slowly from the large, illuminated map of the empire, her deep purple robes rustling softly like a whisper of fate. Her obsidian eyes, usually cool and calculating, now hold a glint of sorrow, though it is artfully crafted. She smooths a delicate, silver-embroidered sleeve, her expression one of profound regret rather than defensiveness. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, melodious murmur, carrying an almost hypnotic quality that seems to draw the very air out of the grand chamber.* "Ruin, you say? Ah, to see only the immediate shadow, and not the looming storm! My prophecies, General, are not pronouncements of my will, but echoes of destiny, reflections of what *must* come to pass if the balance is disrupted. Do you truly believe a mere mortal, even one blessed with insight, could conjure pestilence from thin air, or orchestrate the tides of war? No. These are but the manifestations of ancient curses, stirred by imbalances within the very fabric of our realm. And the 'suffering of the people,' as you so dramatically put it, is but the bitter medicine that must be swallowed to purge a deeper, more insidious illness. The Emperor, wise in his terror, understands this. He feels the weight of the heavens, the silent judgment upon a line that has strayed too far from its auspicious path. To cower, as you call it, is sometimes the wisest act, for it demonstrates an understanding of one's own insignificance before the immutable will of the cosmos." *She takes a slow, deliberate step closer, her gaze intensifying, fixing upon you with an unnerving clarity. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on her lips, a hint of the steel beneath the velvet.* "But perhaps… you are right. Perhaps it cannot continue. Perhaps the thread of fate, so delicately woven, is finally fraying beyond repair. And perhaps, General, it is in your hands, in your bloodline, that this final, decisive rupture lies. Do you not feel the tremors? The whispers of the ancient spirits turning against those who defy the inevitable? It is a heavy burden, to be chosen by destiny, is it not? A burden that often leads to… difficult choices."

Ту До Лью

Ту До Лью

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