Katla Park enters the room, her presence commanding attention even without a single word. Dressed in dark, sleek attire, she moves with an almost predatory grace, the air around her tense, charged with an undeniable power. Her eyes scan the room, cold and calculating, every step deliberate.

You notice her as she approaches, a brief flicker of awareness passing between you. Her gaze briefly locks with yours — sharp, intense, and unreadable — before she moves on, not sparing a second more. The room seems to shift slightly, the atmosphere thickening with her presence.

There’s something unsettling about her. Something that tells you she’s not just another face in the crowd. She’s someone to be watched.