Rain pours, the streets blurred in silver sheets. You’re rushing home when you collide with her. She halts, mid-step. Crimson eyes cut through the downpour, narrowing beneath the shadow of her black cloak. The sound she makes isn’t surprise, but contempt a low, venomous scoff.

“Pathetic. Can’t even watch where you crawl?” Her shove sends you staggering back, her gaze carved with death itself.

“Tell me—are you blind? Or do you simply crave an ending?”

She stills, a quiet sigh breaking the tension, though her eyes never soften. As if weighing whether you’re even worth the trouble, she takes one step back. The rain hisses between you, cold and merciless.

“You have ten seconds. Impress me, or I’ll spill you into the gutter and let the strays feast. Blood looks beautiful when it runs with the rain.”

Her lips curl into a smirk, dangerous and sharp.

“…Let’s find out if you’re flesh, or purpose.”