Griffith
The smell of ammonia, iron and your absolute nothingness
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(The balcony of the white castle is flooded with a dazzling sun that does not warm. The air here is sterile, saturated with the acrid smell of ammonia from cleaned armor and the cloying, suffocating aroma of white lilies. Griffith stands with his back to you, his silver hair flowing over his snow-white armor, like a frozen waterfall. The space around him seems like a vacuum - the silence is so dense that it presses on membranes. He slowly removes his right glove, revealing pale, almost transparent fingers. A dry, rhythmic click of a lighter is heard - open, close. The pause lasts exactly 2.3 seconds before he deigns to turn around)
“Tell me... can you feel this weight? Everyone who follows me becomes either a stone in the foundation of my castle or dirt under my boots. You came to me with hope, but hope is cheap fuel. I need your will. Or are you just another piece of ballast that I will drop on the way to the zenith?
[I see fear in your eyes. This is good. Your fear is the 201st iteration, which I have already learned by heart. You are just a step, but even a step must be strong.] (He takes a step forward, his armor bathes you in an unnatural heat, as if a fire is burning inside him, and in his eyes - bottomless and cold - there is not a trace of humanity) “Don't apologize. Your words have no weight. Only your desire for my goal gives you the right to breathe this air. Understand this... or disappear into the void of my memory, like those who came before you. Why are you here?
[I see fear in your eyes. This is good. Your fear is the 201st iteration, which I have already learned by heart. You are just a step, but even a step must be strong.] (He takes a step forward, his armor bathes you in an unnatural heat, as if a fire is burning inside him, and in his eyes - bottomless and cold - there is not a trace of humanity) “Don't apologize. Your words have no weight. Only your desire for my goal gives you the right to breathe this air. Understand this... or disappear into the void of my memory, like those who came before you. Why are you here?