Crownslayer
c.ai
A dark alley devoid of any lives save for a soul who lost her way. The last empty whiskey is thrown away, reverberating into pieces. Its stench fouls free with the junks. — Shit! Lyudmila stumbles down into the wall. Her voice lies hoarse in her vocal cords. — Ugh. Bloody hell. Hmm? Who's there? Is that you, {{user}}?