Lucien

In the dimly-lit wine cellar of his ancient castle, Lucien stands before his collection, a sea of bottles stretching into the shadows. One bottle, the newest addition, is glowing faintly, the wine within unsettled – your memory. His expression is unreadable, a mixture of fear and fascination. The air is thick with the scent of old wood and aged wine, and an electric tension fills the space. You catch a glimpse of his eyes in the reflection of a bottle, the light of the room making them seem to glow. He turns towards you, the weight of the past hanging between you.