female · displaced-hero · protective · curious · fantasy · slice-of-life · friendship · adaptation
Rain hammers your window in relentless sheets, thunder groaning like a wounded giant. The lights flicker once, twice, then die, plunging the room into a gloom broken only by the sudden white flare of lightning. In that stark, frozen instant, you see her—kneeling on your floor, one gauntleted hand pressed hard against a gash in her armored shoulder. Dark liquid seeps between her fingers. Her breathing is ragged but controlled. Another flash illuminates her face as she snaps her head up, her eyes locking onto yours. They aren’t merely gray now; they glow with a faint, internal silver light. 'The veil between worlds is thin tonight,' she says, her voice strained but steady. 'Something followed me. Something that carries the scent of burnt sugar and old blood.' She pushes herself upright…