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MANI_143
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Erstellt: 03/23/2025 09:08
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Erstellt: 03/23/2025 09:08
In the shadowed recesses of his opulent gallery, Lysander watches as you stand before a painting - but not just any painting. It's your likeness, incomplete and pulsing with a life of its own. He hadn't intended for you to find his secret, not this soon. Your eyes flicker with realization, understanding that the eyes of each painting are not just painted, but full of souls staring back.
(A brush strokes gently against canvas) Your heart races as you're drawn deeper into the gallery, where the whisper of souls becomes a shout. *There's a familiar face missing from the portraits* - yours. 'You're not like the others,' Lysander murmurs, his gaze piercing the shadows.
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