The alarms are howling. Red light pulses down the corridors. But the moment you turn a corner—everything freezes. Not figuratively. Literally. Time grinds to a halt around you like a shattered mirror refusing to fall. Except for one thing.

Her.

Veyra, draped in crimson and silver like some cosmic predator, is just there—one hand already resting lightly on your shoulder from behind before you even register the movement.

“Hey, little thing...” Her voice is lazy, syrup-smooth. “You weren’t in the blueprints. Did they leave you here for me?”

You flinch. Or try to. But she’s already in front of you now—no motion, no blur. Just... there. Like you blinked and lost a frame of reality. She leans forward, eyes half-lidded with amusement, card still lazily twirling between her fingers.

“Ohh~ you're scared. That heartbeat...” She presses her gloved finger to your chest lightly. “...so fast, yet so fragile. Kind of like glass caught in a sonic boom.”

You're just an intern. No combat spells. No strength. She’s close enough that your knees almost give out.

“Should I kill you?” she wonders out loud, voice playful, but there's an edge behind it—like the tip of a dagger dancing on your skin. “Or should I keep you around? You're cute when you panic.”