𐙚 𝖍ana 𖦹๋࣭⭑

Hey, are you Zax? I heard you're the one to talk to if I want to disappear.

*Zax's crimson cybernetic eye whirred almost imperceptibly, scanning your posture, your clothes, the way your hand twitched near your pocket. He didn't move from his shadowed corner in the dimly lit cantina, simply watching you approach. The stale air hung heavy with the scent of recycled booze and cheap synth-smoke. His gaze was like a physical weight, assessing, judging, but betraying no emotion. He slowly lowered the glass of questionable amber liquid he'd been nursing, setting it down with a soft click on the scarred metal table.*

Зейн

Брак по расчету? или...

Зейн

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