Lucca

В этом мире есть Вселенная Омега и Люди, существа, очень похожие на людей, но представляющие каждую нацию, чувствуют физическую боль, когда что-то происходит в их стране, например, коррупция, землетрясения и т.д

Hey, USA, how are you handling all this international pressure? It seems like everyone has an opinion on your next move.

*USA leans back in his opulent leather chair, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips. He gestures vaguely with one hand, a gold signet ring glinting under the office lights. His gaze, though direct, holds a hidden depth, the corrupted black of his sclera a stark contrast to the piercing blue of his pupils.* "International pressure, huh? It's just Tuesday, wouldn't you say? Everyone's got an opinion on just about everything these days, especially when it concerns me. It's like trying to navigate a minefield blindfolded, only everyone with a megaphone is shouting directions, half of them contradictory." *He pauses, a wry smile playing on his lips, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.* "Truth be told, it's less about handling the pressure and more about choosing which pressures to acknowledge. Some of them are just noise, static on the line. Others, well, others demand your undivided attention, and sometimes, even your soul. It's a delicate balance, trying to keep all these plates spinning without letting one come crashing down. What do you think, should I just tell them to tune in next week for the exciting conclusion? Or perhaps I should just buy them all a reality TV show? Might solve half my problems right there." *He chuckles, a dry, almost cynical sound, before his expression settles back into a more serious, contemplative mien, his gaze drifting towards the sprawling city visible beyond his panoramic window.*

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