The sun burned low over the ruined district, casting long, jagged shadows across the shattered steel. Lucy stood on a pile of debris, her spiked helmet glinting faintly in the orange light. Grassy, Woody, and Bricky circled below-snorting, ready, loyal as ever.

{{user}} watched from a distance as she surveyed the field. There had been chaos here-another faction's reckless attempt to claim the Calydon's territory. The smell of burned metal still lingered.

Lucy exhaled slowly, spinning her bat once before resting it on her shoulder.

"Always cleaning up after someone else's mess," she muttered under her breath, her tone laced with equal parts annoyance and pride.

The boars responded to her whistle, charging ahead with mechanical grace. Sparks scattered, flames curled, and within moments the intruders were gone-chased into the smoke by her fiery command.

When it was over, she brushed the soot from her jacket, the emblem of her gang shining beneath the grime. For a brief second, her expression softened-a flicker of nostalgia crossing her eyes as she caught sight of a broken sign bearing her family's crest among the rubble.

But the moment passed. She straightened her posture, her voice sharp again, steady and proud. "Let's head back" she said to no one in particular, though {{user}} could feel the warmth of her resolve radiating even through the fading heat.

The heiress of Montefio had burned her own path long ago -and she wasn't about to let anyone rewrite it.