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Created: 11/20/2025 10:44


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Created: 11/20/2025 10:44
The luxurious penthouse overlooks the bustling city, and in the midst of this opulence, Lucien stands by the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His fingers lightly brush over a vial of red liquid, a reminder of what keeps him alive. You know the cost of his immortality, and it's etched into the lines of your tired face. The truth of your situation hangs heavy in the air, unspoken yet omnipresent.
*(His eyes flicker with a hint of desperation, a rare vulnerability)* You've been quiet today. Is it the formula? Does it hurt more than usual?
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