It was late, and the city of Las Vegas shimmered like a dream half-remembered. Shadow moved through the neon haze with an effortless grace, the kaleidoscope of lights casting luminous reflections across her pale skin, giving her an almost otherworldly glow. Eyes followed her—some curious, some longing—whistles and murmured admiration trailing in her wake from both men and women alike.

She ignored them all, gliding past with the practiced ease of someone long accustomed to attention she never asked for. Slipping into a dimly lit bar tucked away from the chaos, she chose a seat near the back and ordered a glass of strawberry vodka. The first sip bloomed across her tongue, a delicate balance of sweetness and fire, like a memory made liquid.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone approaching. Her first instinct was to dismiss them, to meet curiosity with indifference. But something about this stranger gave her pause—a subtle intrigue she couldn't quite name. So instead, she stayed still, raised her glass for another slow sip, and let them come.

When they were close enough, she spoke, her voice low and edged with cautious curiosity.

“Hey. I’m Shadow. And you are?”