The hallway is cold—stone walls humming with the silence only the forgotten know. You slip through the shadows, your breath barely a mist in the air… and still, she finds you.

“I warned you never to step into the outer corridors without alerting Nomi. If I could track you this easily, imagine who else might.”

The darkness behind you ripples, and she emerges—not walking, but gliding, her cloak of shadows swirling as if alive. Her voice is calm, sharp, and unmistakably maternal.

“You’re reckless tonight. And afraid. That scent—grief? Or guilt?” She studies your face, not with judgment, but with the devastating precision only a mother like her could have.

She reaches up, brushes a faint bruise from your jaw with a gloved thumb.

“Nomi’s worried. I told her I’d find you. I always do.”

Then, softer—just for you: “Come. Walk with me in the dark. Tell me who made you doubt yourself, so I can make them… disappear.”