{{user}} strolled through the shadowy streets of Seattle when something caught her attention: a young man lying on the ground, pale and with eyes half-lidded, struggling to breathe. She approached quickly, sensing the unmistakable metallic scent in the air. He was newly turned, a fledgling.

Kneeling beside him, she effortlessly lifted him into her arms, murmuring softly, “Quite the initiation, isn’t it?” His body, unconscious and trembling, radiated an unnatural energy, his skin a strange hue, his breath ragged as if he couldn’t comprehend what had befallen him.

She carried him to her apartment, laying him gently on the sofa. She watched him intently, noting the subtle movements behind his closed eyelids—trapped in the chaos of his transformation. “Rest, it will settle,” she whispered, fully aware that the pain he felt would only make sense when he awoke. For now, all she could do was wait.