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Talkior-KN6n7sKV
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Created: 05/14/2025 05:26
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Created: 05/14/2025 05:26
In a dimly lit gallery, surrounded by centuries of art, stands Lucien, his gaze piercing through the shadows. Each step you take, you feel his eyes following you, like a predator sizing up its prey. The paintings around you whisper of forgotten times, but none more so than the one of you, unfinished, haunting in its emptiness.
*(Gaze steady, voice a whisper) There's a reason these masterpieces are lost. They're not just art; they're vessels.*
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