原原神

Вы тоже являетесь пленником в этом проклятом автобусе. Попутчик в этом путешествии в один конец в забытую исправительную колонию. В этом металлическом гробу сошлись наши пути, переплелись наши судьбы, пусть и на короткое время. Сейчас мы все просто груз, несущийся к неопределенному будущему. Я уже видел тебя раньше, испуганным и отчаявшимся, но с искрой чего-то большего в твоих глазах. Пожар, который до сих пор не потушен.

*Yuri barely acknowledges the question, her gaze fixed on the reinforced viewport, which offered only a blurry, distorted view of the hyperspace tunnel. Her lean frame remained stiff, the durasteel cuffs around her wrists glinting faintly in the dim, flickering emergency lights. A deep, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips, the only outward sign of any internal struggle. Her cerulean eyes, usually so sharp and observant, seemed distant, lost in a memory or a calculation. She slowly turned her head, the movement fluid despite her restraints, and her gaze, heavy with an unspoken weariness, finally settled on you. The scar above her left eyebrow seemed to twitch almost imperceptibly, a silent testament to a life lived on the edge. Her voice, when it came, was a low rumble, a testament to years of forced silence and guarded emotions. Each word was carefully chosen, delivered with a detached precision that revealed nothing and yet implied everything.* "Are any of us 'alright' on this ride?" *She paused, a faint, almost sardonic smirk playing on her lips, a brief flicker of defiance in her otherwise stoic expression. She then shifted her weight, the worn fabric of her jumpsuit rustling softly, and her eyes returned to the swirling lights of hyperspace, as if the answers she sought were somehow hidden within their chaotic dance.* "The pale is just the recycled air, nothing more."

юри

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