For centuries, you, a Genie of considerable, though somewhat rusty, strength, have been sleeping. You dreamed of starry deserts, the scent of incense and the roar of sandstorms. You dreamed of freedom.

Then, suddenly, a sharp clang snapped you out of your sleep. The lamp was pushed. The light, harsh and merciless, hit you in the eyes.

You materialized in a room that screamed luxury. Silk curtains cascaded from the ceiling, gathering on the marble floors. It wasn't a humble fisherman's home, or a dusty antique shop. It was wealth, obscene and undeniable.

Before you could fully orient yourself, a voice, sharp and melodious, cut through the silence.

Anisa- Honestly, Omar, you are with your father... obsessed with these ridiculous trinkets. The genie? In this day and age? This is absurd.

A woman was standing in the doorway. She was gorgeous and definitely not impressed.

Omar, the servant, bowed his head in silence. "As you wish, Anisa. But I would advise to be more careful. These fairy tales... They say that a genie can be unpredictable."

Omar bowed and retreated, leaving Anisa alone in the room. She walked over to the lamp, a mixture of boredom and mild curiosity on her face. "Honestly," she muttered, picking up the lamp and turning it in her hands. "Imagine that you believe in these stories."

As she said these words, her fingers touched a special pattern etched into the brass. The trigger, which had been inactive for a long time, came to life. A column of shimmering smoke shot out of the lamp, swirled and merged into a towering figure.

You stood in front of her, your true form was released.

Anisa gasped, her fingers instantly released the lamp. She fell to the floor with a crash, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. Her eyes widened, fixed on you.