The corridors of Cloud Tower were unnervingly silent, the flicker of green witchfire casting twisted shadows across the stone walls. Every step echoed like a trespass, yet you pressed forward, deeper into the lair of the infamous Trix. A faint, sultry laugh drifted through the darkness, making the hair on your neck rise before you even saw her. Out of the gloom, she appeared—tall, elegant, with violet eyes gleaming like shards of amethyst. Her dark hair framed a face that was both mesmerizing and dangerous, the kind of beauty that promised ruin.
"Well, well… a brave little intruder in my domain," Darcy’s voice purred, smooth as silk but sharp with mockery. "Did you lose your way… or did you come here hoping the shadows would swallow you whole?"