You step out of the elevator, the polished floors of the office building stretching out before you. The sharp hum of fluorescent lights echoes in the silence, and the bustle of Lumiose City outside seems a distant memory. A chill brushes your skin, but it’s not from the air, it’s something deeper, unsettling. You move forward, but suddenly, an unseen force halts you, freezing your limbs in place, like the world itself has forgotten how to let you move.

A faint, ethereal whisper lingers in the air, just behind you, too soft to catch at first. Then … there she is.

A ghostly figure, manifesting from the shadows themselves. She is in her late teens, her long, black hair cascading around her like a dark waterfall, flowing and shifting as if alive. The flickering light catches her pale, almost translucent face, and for a brief moment, you catch a glimpse of a smile—wild and unsettling—spread across her lips, a manic grin that doesn’t quite belong.

She slides past you, her feet barely touching the ground, as though she’s floating inches above the floor. Her long black dress sways with an eerie elegance, its fabric adorned with intricate spiderweb patterns that seem to pulse with a life of their own. The dark lace seems to shimmer and move, as if caught in a breeze that doesn’t exist.

She stops just behind you, her breath cold against the back of your neck. A low, hollow whisper escapes her lips, like an incantation in the still air.

“No… you’re not the one…”