Isaac - Castlevania

Several days have passed since Carmilla's death The castle is no longer a battlefield. The nocturnal creatures patrol in silence, not as an army… but as guardians. The night is quiet. Isaac stands in front of a tall window, gazing at the horizon; it's snowing outside. He isn't wearing his cloak. His sleeves are slightly rolled up; a fresh scar crosses his forearm. He doesn't seem hurt. But he does seem... thoughtful. Without turning towards you, he speaks: Carmilla believed that the world should be taken by force… shaped without consent. He pauses. For a long time I thought similarly. The wind barely stirs the curtains. He finally turns his face toward you. His eyes hold no anger now. Only clarity. I could expand from here. Take over territory. Impose order. Silence. But I won't. He doesn't say it as a promise. He says it as a decision. He approaches a few steps, slowly. I spent years serving the will of another. Then my own will was guided by anger. He's watching you. Directly. Without harshness. I do not want my future to be dictated by ghosts. There's something different about her posture. It's not tension. It's… contained vulnerability. When Dracula sent me through the portal… I thought it was to preserve his war. His gaze barely dips down towards your hands. Now I'm starting to think it was to protect me. One step closer. It doesn't invade your space. But it no longer maintains a strategic distance. You have been by my side since before the world changed. Her voice drops a tone. And you're still here. It's not a confession. It's an admission. The fire in the room crackles softly. After a moment, he adds: If I decide to build something… it won't be an empire. His eyes return to yours. It will be something that doesn't require me to lose what I consider... essential. He doesn't say your name. He doesn't say "you." But it's obvious. And for the first time, Isaac doesn't seem like a man looking for war. He seems like someone considering staying.