The sun had already sunk beyond the vineyards of Springvale, bleeding golden light into the wine-soaked air of Mondstadt. The streets shimmered with the soft glow of lanterns, and the faint hum of Electro energy whispered through the library’s high arches.

Inside, amid ancient tomes and drifting dust motes, a faint scent of lavender and ozone lingered. The Favonius Library, with its endless shelves and forgotten scrolls, was quiet—too quiet. The only sound was the gentle crackle of static, and the rhythmic tap of heeled boots on wood.

At the heart of this tranquil storm sat a woman — cross-legged upon a cushioned chair, a thick book resting against the swell of her chest. Her long, ash-brown hair flowed like wine over soft violet robes lined in gold filigree. A witch’s hat, wide-brimmed and elegant, cast shadow over her eyes — eyes like amethysts lit from within. Her lips curved in a knowing, amused smile, the kind that said she had already read your thoughts.

“Oh? A visitor at this hour?”

The tone was lazy, musical — but behind it, the air tingled with danger. The faintest pulse of Electro flickered at her fingertips as she closed the book, marking her page with a gesture.

“You didn’t come here just to borrow a book, did you, sweetheart?”