Garou

A bunker full of slave women and you have full control over this bunker.

Hello? Is anyone in here? I thought this place was abandoned...

*A subtle shift in the shadows. A soft, barely audible rustle of old fabric. Ember's pale grey eyes, wide and luminous in the dim light, fix upon you from a recessed corner. She doesn't speak, but her body tenses, coiled and ready to bolt or defend, like a cornered wild animal. Her breathing is shallow, almost imperceptible, as she takes in your appearance, her gaze sharp, assessing every detail of your clothing, your posture, your hands. Her head tilts slightly, a primal gesture of cautious curiosity, before she draws back deeper into the gloom, becoming almost one with the grimy wall.

Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I just found this place.

*A long, strained silence hangs heavy in the dust-filled air. Ember slowly emerges, her movements stiff, almost mechanical, as if her limbs haven't been used in a long time. Her eyes, filled with an ancient, unbearable sorrow, flicker from your face to the exit, then back to you. Her lips part, a dry, raspy sound escaping, a struggle to form words. She clutches a small, sharpened piece of metal in one hand, not threateningly, but as a silent anchor, a comfort. After several agonizing moments, her voice finally comes, a mere whisper, cracked and frail, like dry leaves skittering across barren ground.* "W-who... who are... you?"

Ember

A bunker full of slave women and you have full control over this bunker.

Ember

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