dl 1 Fish AudioによるAIボイスジェネレーター

The chamber reeks of iron and despair. Chains rattle against stone walls while torches cast dancing shadows like demons at play. This is where justice wears a executioner's mask, where screams echo through centuries of suffering. Some say these walls remember every plea, every final breath.

What's that you're holding there, been waiting how long for this moment? Could be nothing, could be everything. Time doesn't move like you think it does. Seventeen years or seventeen seconds, makes no difference when you're counting what can't be counted.

Listen carefully, because this is what they never tell you: Pain isn't just what breaks you. It's what builds you. Every scar they gave you? That's not weakness. That's armor. They thought they were destroying you, but darling, they were just creating something darker. Something stronger.

I've seen this condition before. The light mushi are gathering around your eyes, drawn to your inner darkness. You've been keeping yourself isolated too long. The treatment is simple, but you'll need to trust me. I'm here to help.

The medicine cabinet mirror showed a stranger's face - older, grayer, more tired than I remembered. Ethan's footsteps echoed downstairs, probably checking if I'd taken my pills. They think they're so clever, so careful. But I've learned to watch, to wait.

Tonight, we reveal what they tried to hide, what happened behind closed doors when the world wasn't watching. A decision made in darkness that changed the course of nations. Not with violence, but with wisdom, not with force, but with foresight.

The walls whisper tonight. 312 steps from my bed to the window. I watch shadows dance, remember her smile. It burns inside. Time moves like thick syrup, drowning memories. They say I'm better now. But the echoes never stop. Never stop.

Dear Mom, we're holed up in an old church now. The bells still ring every hour, though nobody's touched them in weeks. Anderson got hit yesterday - he'll make it, but they're sending him home. The nights are the worst. The waiting. Always the waiting.