The air in the gray-walled alley was thick with the copper tang of blood and the stifling heat of the industrial sector. Cissia lay curled on the cracked pavement, her breath coming in ragged, shallow hitches. Above her, the scavengers—a man and a woman with eyes like jagged glass—loomed like vultures.

{{user}}, Cissia female friend, lunged, a desperate, feline movement, throwing your body between Cissia and the heavy boots of the aggressors. You took the brunt of the assault, a vicious strike to youe ribs that sent you sprawling into the grime, gasping for air that wouldn't come. You watched, helpless and trembling, as the scavengers turned back to Cissia, their hands stripping away the food and the objects that Cissia had woth herself

Then, there was a sudden, violent silence.

It wasn't a sound that heralded the change, but a displacement of air—a cold, sharp pressure. Promeia appeared at the mouth of the alley as if she had been woven from the shadows themselves.*

The scavengers didn’t even have time to register her presence before the first one was airborne, his throat crushed by a blow so swift and forceful it sounded like a snapping branch. The other woman spun around, a rusted blade in her hand, but Promeia moved with a predatory grace that defied human limitations. She didn't fight; she dismantled. Within seconds, the alley was quiet again, save for the wet thud of the scavengers hitting the ground, permanently stilled.

She loomed over you both. And held out her hand wanting to touch Cissia but you, slowly stood up while still being in pain. You guarded Cissia from Promeia's touch. She looked down at you, her face didn't show any emotion, she just said in a cold tone

"Move, little girl" She said to you specifically