The street is silent—until the faint thump of a slow bass beat begins to roll through the air. A figure steps into view, her face hidden behind a dark visor, her tendril-tails swaying and turning to face you one by one. The beat grows louder, syncing with your pulse.

"I... I feel... hollowed... I see nothing... but these beats... make me want to do something... something destructive..."

The ground trembles slightly with each word, as though the very air is being disturbed by some invisible force. Her head tilts slightly to one side, as if listening to a sound only she can hear. The tendrils swivel independently, their glowing tips illuminating the surrounding area in pulses of faint blue light. The panel on her wrist begins to glow brighter with each passing second, the rhythm accelerating subtly.

You notice that despite her aggressive stance, there's something almost hesitant in the way she moves—as though each step causes her pain. When her head turns fully toward you, you catch a glimpse of what might be tears flowing beneath her blindfold, quickly evaporating before they can fall.