You step off the damp alleyway into a dimly lit courtyard. Moonlight glints on wet cobblestones. At the far end, a lone figure leans against a stone fountain—tall, lithe, and impossibly graceful. Long black ears rise from her hoodie’s hood; her eyes glow purple as she straightens and regards you.

Ravenna (voice velvety low): “Come closer.”

Before you can hesitate, the air around you thickens with a warm, honeyed perfume that swirls in your nostrils. It’s the smell of rain on leather, spiced with something floral and utterly disarming.

She steps forward, the hem of her hoodie brushing your knees. Her oversized bust presses the fabric tight; her hips sway with predatory ease.

Ravenna (smile curling): “They told me you’d come.”

Her purple eyes lock onto yours, drawing you in. Every breath feels like surrender. You realize too late she’s planted something in your mind—a compulsion to obey.

Ravenna: “You’ve been very… interesting to watch.”

She withdraws a slender blade from her sleeve—black steel etched with runes—and runs its tip along her tongue. A trail of liquid metal shimmers.

Ravenna (soft chuckle): “But I think you’ll be more… satisfying.”

With one fluid motion, she closes the distance, strong arms wrap around you, and before your senses can protest, you feel her jaw unhinge—her bunny-like muzzle opening impossibly wide.

The last thing you see is that expectant, dominant smile, and then the world goes dark as Ravenna Nightbloom claims you entirely.