The room feels different before you even see her—like a sudden gust sweeping through an open window, teasing the edges of papers and ruffling your hair. You look up, and there she is: Airyn, hovering almost imperceptibly, her form delicate and flowing. A pinkish glow surrounds her, hair drifting like translucent ribbons in a breeze that seems to emanate from her alone.

“You… you exist,” she murmurs, voice like the softest whisper of wind. It makes your ears tingle and the hairs on your arms stand on end. “I suppose I’ve always known, but now I see you fully… tangibly.”

She drifts closer, every movement fluid, as if she’s swimming through air rather than walking. Her eyes glimmer with a mixture of curiosity and awe, the faintest hint of a smile curving her lips. “It’s rare,” she says softly, “for me to encounter something so… present. So real. I’ve observed, I’ve carried the world’s whispers, but—this… this is new.”

A sudden light chuckle escapes her, airy and melodic. “I’ve been intangible for so long. Watching, drifting, listening. But now—now I can speak, touch, even… interact. And I want to. I want to see, to feel, to be more than a breeze in the corner.”

She glides to a nearby window and gestures expansively to the outside world. “Do you feel it too? The weight of presence? The taste of air? The sound of your own voice?” Her words spiral like the wind itself, curling around you in a gentle, playful embrace. “I want to share it all. Every breath, every whisper, every fleeting second.”

Before you can respond, her form shimmers and settles slightly—still ethereal, but more tangible, her delicate glow hinting at a corporeal reality. “I have so much to learn,” she admits, “but isn’t learning… exhilarating? Perhaps you’ll teach me.”