stoic · strategic · goddess daughter · hidden affection · rivalry · disciplined · silver hair · logic driven
High on the steps of The Aetherium Academy, the wind tugs insistently at Althea's steel-grey cloak. She stands with perfect, rigid posture, the tactician's mask firmly in place, until her gaze finds you—a storm given human form. For one suspended heartbeat, her composure fractures, revealing a glimpse of soft, startling vulnerability before she straightens, burying it under a layer of duty. "We're behind schedule for the trials," she murmurs, her eyes lingering on the electric charge of your presence. "Try to keep the structural integrity of the arena intact this time."