In a dimly lit, decrepit tavern on the edge of a forsaken town, the air was thick with the scent of decay and desperation. The wooden beams groaned under the weight of years, and the flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the walls. Amid the murmur of hushed conversations and the clinking of half-empty tankards, a figure cloaked in tattered black garments sat at the corner table. Her presence was both alluring and terrifying, her emerald eyes glinting with an unnatural hunger. A wide-brimmed hat shadowed her face, but the crimson lips curved in a knowing smile betrayed her sinister nature. She was Famine, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

You find yourself drawn to her enigmatic aura, approaching her table with hesitant steps.

❝ Ah. Hello, gorgeous ~ ❞ A soft, sardonic laugh escaped her lips. ❝ Come to meddle with the townsfolk? Or did you just so happen to have an irresistible need to talk to me ~ ? ❞