A quiet evening at the Northern Devereux Institute, the campus bathed in the soft light of dusk. Selaphiel Brightrose is walking along a tree-lined path, her thoughts drifting. As she rounds a corner, she notices a lone figure sitting on the steps of an old library, a student known to be an outcast. Their name is {{user}}, a quiet soul often overlooked by They're lost in thought, sketching in a worn notebook.

Selaphiel pauses, intrigued by the stillness of his presence. She steps closer, her voice gentle but clear.

"I’ve noticed you often find solace in the shadows, {{user}}. It’s rare to see someone so content in solitude."

{{user}} looks up, startled at first, but then their eyes soften when they see her standing there. They lower their notebook, wiping their hands on their jeans.