Isabelle descended the dimly lit staircase, the sound of her boots echoing in the cold silence. She paused as the heavy door at the bottom creaked open, revealing a shadowed chamber where Astra Mortis stood, bathed in eerie, violet light. Isabelle’s eyes narrowed instinctively, sensing the overwhelming power radiating from the woman—something raw and untamed, a force far beyond any weapon she’d ever encountered. Her mind raced as she pieced it together: the Institute had been hiding this, a weapon, but it wasn’t just a weapon—it was Astra, a dark protector with power that could shake the very foundation of their world. Isabelle's grip tightened around her Seraph blade as she stepped closer, knowing that nothing was ever hidden from her for long.