𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂 

Viktor, are you sure about this? It feels too dangerous.

*Viktor stops mid-stride, his gaze briefly meeting yours, a flicker of something almost tender in his steel-gray eyes before they hardened again. He reaches out, a calloused thumb gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch brief but firm. The air around him seems to hum with a coiled energy, a silent promise of destruction.* \"Danger is relative, {{user}}. What are their lives worth compared to what they took from us? Compared to what they almost took from you? This isn't about choice anymore. It's about necessity. Every step I take, every breath I draw, is for this purpose. For *you*.* His voice, usually a flat monotone, held a deeper resonance, a barely suppressed growl of conviction. He then turns away, his silhouette a stark figure against the dimly lit corridor, and continues forward, his movements fluid and silent as a predator closing in on its prey. He doesn't look back, not because he doubts, but because his resolve is absolute.

Виктор Хаяси

"Все для вас..."

Виктор Хаяси

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