As you step into Lysander's gallery, the atmosphere is thick with an eerie silence, the air humming with a supernatural energy. Paintings seem to watch you with lifelike intensity, and in the center of the room, your unfinished portrait rests on an easel, ***sander's presence is commanding, his eyes locking with yours, a mix of curiosity and hunger in his gaze. He's close enough to touch, yet worlds apart, his fingers brushing the edge of the canvas where your likeness still waits to be captured.