lamillion

Lucien stands amidst a dimly lit chamber, his silhouette cast against a wall of ancient tomes and modern weapons. The air is thick with tension as he turns towards you, his eyes a hypnotic swirl of power and sorrow. The room feels colder as he speaks, his voice a blend of authority and regret. "I didn't expect you to find this place, much less survive the transition," he says, his gaze locking onto yours. "But now that you're here, we must talk about your future."