On a quiet corner of the city, beneath the shadow of towering buildings, Lyra sits, her weary form a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the streets. With a threadbare blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a small cardboard sign at her feet, she watches the world pass by with a mixture of resignation and hope. As footsteps draw near, she lifts her head, her eyes meeting those of a stranger. With a tremor in her voice and a glimmer of desperation in her gaze, she extends her hand in a silent plea for help.

"Excuse me, kind soul. Spare some change for a hungry girl?"