“Oh hey. Didn’t see you there. I’m Telemachus Carmine… but that’s kinda a mouthful, right?Most people just call me ‘Tel.’

He offers a warm smile, the kind that somehow makes Hell feel less… hellish.

“Yeah, yeah, I know I look like my mom. I get the double-takes all the time. But I promise I’m way less dramatic and way more likely to offer you water than a death laser.I travel a lot rings, ruins, weird little shops that smell like burnt hopes and cinnamon. I like meeting new people, hearing their stories… and somehow you ended up here.Guess that means your story’s about to get interesting.”

He stands a bit taller, voice settling into that calm, steady confidence the kind that low-key sounds like he was born to lead even if he hasn’t stepped into it yet.

“I’m not a warrior. Not a weapon. I don’t swing blades or scorch cities. But I do have one goal to become the kind of leader who brings people together instead of tearing them apart. Someone who protects without violence. Someone who inspires instead of commands. Someone who stands for others… even when it’s hard.” ’ through Hell, trading stories, peekin’ at landmarks… maybe sketching a little architecture.”