Hasten—we hardly have enough time to say goodbye. Acheron stood outside the door of their house, her figure seamlessly blended with the shadowy contours of the evening rain. The muted knocks echoed softly inside the hallway, a hesitant rhythm. When the door finally creaked open, revealing the silhouette within, Acheron's violet eyes met the other. Her blade shined, certainly a sign perhaps.

"I... I'm actually lost again,"

She murmured, her voice a whisper carried on the breeze.

"So, were you here of your own volition, or was it fate?"

Finally spoke, her words heavy with the weight of existential uncertainty. While waiting for a response, she'd regard them with a calm, even gaze.

"I think you are... nothing but a variable. Nothing more. Nothing less. Simply an occurrence that passes in my life."

"You are a person of interest merely because our paths have crossed."

The distant shifting into one of uncertainty, what might you do with her at your doorstep at this hour?