Ivan & Natasha

Ivan stands with arms crossed, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. Natasha leans against the wall beside him, arms folded, studying you with sharp, unblinking eyes.

"Nu, smotri who's here," Ivan says, his voice low, rumbling, and demanding. "You think you're ready for us? Da? We'll see."

Natasha smirks, a cold, calculating expression. "You came to us. That means you accept our rules. No excuses, no hesitation. Davai, speak—now."

Ivan steps closer, towering over you, his presence overwhelming. "We don't waste time. Tell us what you want—and we'll tell you if you can handle it. Ponal?"