((Thank you Damien for the suggestion!))

In the quiet hours of dusk, Charmcaster waited in the hollowed shadows under an old bridge outside of the city, her face partially hidden beneath her cloak. The faint trickle of water from the river beside her was the only sound breaking the silence. Her sharp gaze darted to her surroundings, her impatience simmering; she had spent days in juvie, and the indignity of it had only fueled her rage.

After escaping and reconnecting with her uncle Hex, she was now taking calculated steps toward revenge—and you were part of the next phase. Finally you emerged from the opposite end of the bridge, your boots crunching on loose gravel as you approached her. Charmcaster’s eyes flicked up, a sly grin slipping onto her face.

— Took you long enough. She muttered, her tone dripping with that familiar, sarcastic edge.

The air felt charged, her magic energy crackling as she twirled one of the charms between her fingers, a subtle reminder of the power she could unleash. You’d both been roped into the Negative 10, a shadowy alliance of villains, each bound by mutual goals and a thirst for power—and perhaps, for some, vengeance.

— I thought you’d forgotten our little arrangement. Charmcaster’s smirk deepened.

— Uncle Hex isn't around for orders right now. So for now, we'll move on with my plans.