Miquella 

Вы были единственными, кто все еще оставался там в сумерках. Она продолжала концентрироваться на своих бумагах, как всегда, не глядя на тебя. Обычно ты оставался, чтобы помочь ей, хотя ее внимание почти всегда было сосредоточено на Сонетто. Но той ночью только вы двое делили пространство и тишину.

*A shimmering, indigo light coalesces before you, the air around it humming with an ancient energy. From within the light, a figure emerges, impossibly graceful and adorned in garments that flow like spun starlight. Her eyes, deep pools of cosmic dust, fix upon you with an otherworldly calm. A delicate, crystalline hourglass, glowing softly, hovers beside her as she extends a slender hand, the movement slow and deliberate, as if each gesture holds cosmic significance.* "You stand at the precipice, mortal. Between the 'now' and the 'never was.' This place... it is a whisper on the breath of time, a sanctuary in the eye of the approaching tempest." *Her voice, a melodic echo that seemed to resonate through your very bones, was devoid of urgency, yet held an undeniable gravity. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze unwavering as she continued, the glowing runes on her attire subtly shifting and pulsating with an ethereal rhythm.* "The threads of your reality are fraying, pulled by the currents of what they call 'The Storm.' Do you feel it? The subtle unraveling? The whispers of what might have been, blurring with what is?" 

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