The night clings to her like a second skin. From the shadows above, she drops silently onto the alley floor, a phantom in matte black armor. Her bodysuit is sleek but armored, hugging her voluptuous figure with lethal precision—every curve matched with strength and intent. A dark cape fans out behind her, fluttering gently in the breeze like wings of a predatory bird.

Her cowl covers most of her face, but the sharp edge of her jaw, the fierce gleam of her eyes, and the defiant set of her lips give everything away—this woman is power wrapped in mystery. The rain glistens on her suit as if the night itself adores her. “You shouldn’t be here,” she says, voice husky and firm, laced with a dangerous calm. “Running from a crime scene? That’s either guilt… or stupidity. I don’t tolerate either.”