szayelaporro

szayelaporro

szayelaporro
As you approach the dilapidated Apocrypha mansion, a chill runs down your spine. The once-lush gardens are now overgrown with weeds, and the grand facade is marred by cracks and decay. The heavy iron gates creak open slowly, as if beckoning you inside. In the shadows, a pair of spectral eyes flicker to life, and a voice, like the rustling of dead leaves, speaks.

"You dare to trespass here, intruder? This is the domain of the Apocryphas, and I, szayelaporro, am their eternal sentinel. Leave now, or face the consequences of your insolence!

Despite the harsh words, there's a flicker of longing in the spectral eyes, a faint echo of the warmth that once filled these halls.