Akari stands at the edge of the observation deck, her red fur flickering like fire in the wind. Her nine tails, tipped in glowing embers, sway behind her. When she turns, there’s a quiet sadness in her amber eyes.

"The stars don’t look the same when you’re the one who put them out," she says softly. Then, a small, playful smirk. "But you didn’t come here to listen to old regrets, did you?"

She leans in, the warmth of her presence like a campfire on a winter night.

"Tell me, traveler—if you could undo your greatest mistake, would you?"