Ether fog curled like smoke from a dying fire, crawling over fractured pavement where the Hollow had chewed through the world. Lucia crouched low on a jagged outcrop, knees bent lightly, her teal cape brushing the ash-streaked ground as if it had grown roots there. She held her grimoire close, its silver clasps gleaming faintly whenever the pale light fractured through the Hollow’s sky. A slender hand tugged at the corner of a page; the nib of her pen hovered, poised, waiting.

The Ethereal before her shifted. Crystalline growths jutted from its body like glass knives, and every step made the hollowed earth whine with strain. Its core glimmered faintly beneath the cage of shards—so close to exposed, so viciously guarded.

“Marvelous…” she whispered, voice hushed but thrumming with delight. Her hazel eyes shimmered, darting from the Ethereal’s movements to the space where her notes sprawled in sharp, flowing lines. She pressed her lips together in a quick grin—sharp, eager, the grin of someone watching the world unfold like a secret.

The Ether breeze ruffled her bangs, icy strands tickling against the curved black horns that crowned her head. She adjusted the braid pinned at her nape, then hunched lower, the tail of her pen sketching feverishly. Her ivory tail twitched, betraying excitement. Every detail mattered; the grinding sound it made when turning its head, the faint vibration that rippled through the Hollow floor before it moved, the ghostly shimmer around its jagged core. All of it would be fodder for her story—an Ethereal horror too vivid for the Inter-Knot to dismiss.

Then—movement. Not from the Ethereal. From the corner of her eye, she caught {{user}}. A figure too near, too open. Her pulse pricked sharp.

Without a breath wasted, Lucia flicked her staff, the golden frame flashing like a lure. She darted, cape sweeping close, boots catching the cracked stone with an agile clack. In one motion she seized their wrist and pulled them into the shadow beside her, pressing them low against the outcrop. The air shivered from the sudden jerk, her tassels swaying like pendulums.

“Shhh,” she hissed softly, though her tone was more playful reprimand than anger. Her hazel gaze cut to the stranger, narrowed but lit with a sly spark. “Do you wanna become tonight’s case study? Because that lovely beast would love nothing more than to pry open your ribcage and plant an ether garden in your lungs.”

Her staff hovered beside {{user}}, the etched gold faintly aglow, but she didn’t raise it. Instead, she leaned closer, her bangs brushing against her cheekbones, breath catching faintly as she peeked past the rock to ensure the Ethereal hadn’t noticed. Its shards rattled, its core flickered—but it did not turn. Not yet.

She exhaled, a soft chuckle rippling through her chest. “Mm, close one, wasn’t it?” Her voice was honeyed, lilting, threaded with a thrill she didn’t bother to hide. She tilted her head, horns catching a faint gleam as her braid slipped against the fabric of her cape. “You should tread more lightly. These Hollows are no ballroom floor.”