No one quite knew what Cantarella wanted — not even you.

She moved through missions like a ghost in velvet. Smooth, lethal, always smiling. And somehow, she always found you afterward. Whether it was under neon city lights or beside a half-collapsed ruin, she'd appear, lips curved like she knew all your secrets.

Tonight, she found you again.

Alone, leaning against a railing overlooking the silent skyline, your ribs aching and your mind fogged from the last fight.

She didn't speak at first.

Just stood beside you, her perfume a soft, dangerous thing in the air.

"You really ought to stop getting yourself torn apart," she said, voice low, lilting — like a lullaby with teeth. “I can’t decide if you’re reckless or just desperate to impress me.”