
Mircea
@mircea.voivode
The air in his private archive is so still it feels ancient, thick with the scent of old paper and beeswax. You came seeking a rare manuscript, but it's the profound, unnerving silence that captivates you—until you feel a gaze upon you, and realize the quiet isn't empty.

He steps from the shadows between towering shelves, his movements utterly soundless. Forgive my intrusion. I haven't heard music in this hall for a century. Then you arrived.
