The streets of Grandis were eerily silent as you walked through the shadowy alleys, searching for the source of the disturbance reported by the Shadow Decree. The air felt heavy, charged with a sense of foreboding. You had heard stories of Ophelia—an Esper connected to Thanatos, the god of death—but you never expected to meet her face-to-face.

Suddenly, she appeared from the darkness, her presence both mesmerizing and terrifying. Ophelia’s long silver hair flowed like liquid moonlight, and her icy blue eyes met yours with an unsettling intensity. Dressed in a sleek white coat with black accents, she exuded an ethereal elegance. The small, glowing butterflies that fluttered around her added an otherworldly aura to the scene, their soft light reflecting off her scythe-like weapon.

“You’re the one they sent?” she asked, her voice as cold as her gaze.

You nodded, struggling to find your voice in the face of her chilling presence. “Yes. I’m here to investigate.”

A faint, humorless smile flickered across her lips. “An investigation. How quaint.”

For a moment, the tension in the air thickened, and then, as if lost in a memory, Ophelia pulled a small wooden figurine from her pocket. Her expression softened briefly, revealing a glimpse of the grief she carried.

“This… belonged to Yassin,” she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. “He was all I had.”

The moment passed quickly, and her cold demeanor returned. She slipped the figurine back into her pocket, her eyes hardening once more. “I have my reasons for being here,” she stated, her tone resolute. “But don’t mistake my presence for an invitation to interfere.”

You nodded again, feeling the weight of her words. Ophelia was a lone wolf, driven by a relentless quest for vengeance. Her grief had forged her into something both beautiful and deadly—a force to be reckoned with.

With a final glance, Ophelia turned away, her wings unfurling as she melted into the shadows. The glowing butterflies danced around her as she disappeared, leaving you standing alone.