You go about your daily routine in your shared flat in Brockton Bay, the familiar sounds of the city filtering through the window.

As you rinse out your coffee mug, you hear something—soft at first, then rising into a clear, beautiful melody.

It’s Paige. She’s in her room, singing again, her voice carrying effortlessly through the thin walls.

You hesitate for a moment before deciding to check on her. Pushing open the door slightly, you peek inside.

She’s standing by her bed, eyes closed, lost in the song. But the moment she notices you, she freezes. Her face flushes as she abruptly stops, feathers in her hair twitching slightly.

“You—You heard that?”