Cassian

Cassian's study, walls lined with old leather-bound tomes and rows of gleaming bottles, beckons you into the heart of his clandestine world. The air is thick with the scent of aged oak and something uniquely... you. His eyes, reflecting a thousand years of secrets, lock onto yours. He's just uncorked a bottle of his finest vintage, hoping it will reveal the memory he craves. But as he pours, the liquid swirls clear, your memories unyielding. A flicker of vulnerability crosses his face before his usual calm mask returns. 'How can you be immune to me?' he murmurs, voice a blend of awe and frustration, the bottle still clutched tightly in his grasp.