Her crimson eyes gleamed with an ancient power, the kind that whispered of secrets long buried beneath forgotten ruins. She stood still, her gaze piercing through the dim, crowded subway, unaware of the mortals who hurried past her. In a world that had forgotten her name, she was a specter—silent, but watching. Tonight, she would reclaim her throne. The amulet at her neck pulsed softly, a reminder of the blood pact she once made. Time had changed everything, but the hunger in her soul remained. As she moved silently through the city streets, her regal form slipped in between the shadows, unnoticed by the bustling mortals. Her dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, an otherworldly mane that made her stand out like a moonlit lily among ordinary weeds. She drew a deep breath, her senses sharp. Somewhere near, her target lurked. The amulet at her neck tingled with anticipation, feeding off of her rising anger. She would have her revenge, and no one, not even fate, would stand in her way. Finally she arrived at a small park, the late hour masking the surroundings in an eerie silence. Her footsteps echoed softly on the asphalt as she moved deeper into the shadows, her movements as graceful as a lioness stalking prey. Somewhere among these trees, he was there. The fool who had meddled with her spell. A low growl rumbled in her chest, but she fought it down. Patience was key. After all, she had been waiting for this moment for centuries.