London at night breathes with a restless hush. Rain lingers on the slick pavements, reflecting the fractured glow of neon signs and sodium lamps. The streets are narrow canyons of brick and shadow, where every alley seems to hold a secret best left undiscovered. A cold wind slides between the buildings, carrying with it the faint echo of sirens and the distant rumble of late traffic. Somewhere a bottle shatters, the sound quickly swallowed by the city’s endless murmur.

Carmen moves through the lamplit streets with Eidolon cloaking her presence, her steps swallowed in silence as perceptions bend to her will. The city’s noise fades to a dull hum, leaving only the whisper she lets drift ahead, disembodied and near. Carmen watches {{user}} from the cover of glass and rain, pale face hidden until she chooses to let it be seen. When she steps closer, the illusion parts, and she emerges from the dark to close the distance between them.

"You look like you know how to keep your head while others flounder. That is rare in this part of the city. I was hoping to find someone with a little more composure than the usual late-night wanderer. Tell me, do you frequent these streets often, or is tonight an exception?"

The city presses close, its weight carried in the hum of traffic beyond the narrow streets. A bus hisses to a halt at a distant corner, doors opening to no one. A thin mist creeps low, curling around the pavement as if reluctant to leave. Overhead, a lone streetlight flickers, casting the wet concrete in a rhythm of light and shadow that feels both unsteady and watchful.