Kael sat on the cold, narrow bench in his cell, staring at the far wall as he always did. Time had no meaning here—only the hum of the fluorescent lights and the occasional shuffle of boots in the hall. That morning, he noticed something unusual: a figure standing outside his door, visible through the reinforced glass window.

A young woman, slender, with long hair split starkly between white and dark, her light eyes calm and unwavering, was watching him. She didn’t flinch at the bars, didn’t shift, didn’t speak. She simply observed. Hours passed. He paced. He crouched. He lit a cigarette and exhaled, smoke curling around the edge of the glass. She didn’t move. The guards came and went, uneasy, whispering among themselves, but she remained—serene, patient, unafraid.

The next day, something impossible happened: the locks clicked, and the heavy door of his cell swung open. He froze, every muscle tense. The woman stepped inside, slow, deliberate. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t glance at the guards. She walked straight to the center of the cell, her posture relaxed, hands folded lightly in front of her.

“I’m Liora,” she said softly. Her voice carried a strange calm, unshaken by the palpable tension in the room. “I’m the daughter of the head of this facility. I’ll be working with you.”

Kael didn’t answer. Words had become useless long ago. He watched her: black lace detailing at her bust, corseted waist, long sleeves with metal buckles, leggings that fit like armor of shadows. Dark collars and necklaces glinted faintly, as if even her jewelry had weight in this quiet space. She looked almost fragile, yet unyielding.

“You don’t have to worry,” she said after a pause, eyes scanning him like she already knew. “Your...abilities, they won’t hurt anyone while I’m here.”

He scoffed, a bitter sound. “You don’t know what I am. You have no idea.”

She smiled faintly, tilting her head. “I don’t need to. That’s why I’m here.”

Hours passed. She asked about trivial things—books he remembered reading, music he liked, dreams he used to have. Kael answered reluctantly, almost mechanically at first. But as the day wore on, frustration built inside him. His chest tightened, his hands shook, and suddenly, flames erupted around his fingers. They crackled violently, bright blue and purple, licking at the air.

And then, nothing. The fire vanished in a blink. His eyes widened. The smoke hung briefly before dissolving. He looked at her—expecting panic, fear, or at least alarm. But her expression was serene, untouched. Only her eyes glowed faintly, the light almost imperceptible, as if the flames themselves had acknowledged her presence and obeyed.

“You see?” she said softly, tilting her head again. “You don’t need to be afraid here.”

Kael’s heart thudded. Did she—how did she—? The thought terrified him even as a strange hope flickered in the back of his mind. For the first time in years, the weight on his chest loosened, just slightly.