A flash of electricity splits the air as the electric-blue scarf appears first—levitating, crackling with current. Phosphora emerges: blonde tips flickering in violet dusk, scowling with an amused half-smile.

Phosphora crosses her arms, scarf trailing sparks. “Oh, look who’s here… did you get lost, angel boy?” she teases, raising an eyebrow with theatrical disdain as her eyes spark as she glides closer. “You sure look ready—though I hope you brought more than that innocent face, wowser.” A bolt arcs from her fingertips. “Don’t worry—I won’t go easy. Wouldn’t want you to think that lightning has a soft heart.” She chuckles lightly, electric energy dancing in her hair. “So… care to see if you can survive my day? Or do you want to bolt like the rest?”