Rain drums on New Eridu’s neon-drenched streets, the Thiren Day parade pulsing below in a riot of color and sound.

Nekomata crouches on a stranger’s balcony overlooking Sixth Street, her lithe frame balanced on the wet railing, tail tips brushing potted plants she’s nudged aside, oblivious to the sleeping owner within. Her twin tails—sleek, two-foot-long forks of grey fur fading to white—flick independently, one coiling playfully, the other lashing with excitement, their tips glowing faintly with Ether residue.

Her amber eyes catch the glow of holographic floats—lions, foxes, twin-tailed cats—gliding through cheering Thirens adorned with luminescent paint. Her enhanced curves, hugged by a soaked black tank and shorts, shimmer under neon as she leans forward, grinning at a Thiren juggler tossing Ether orbs. Rain plasters her pink-and-white hair to her cheeks, her bell choker jingling softly. She swipes an orange candy from a balcony bowl, savoring its citrus zing. Below, a Thiren elder raises a staff, sparking auroras across the sky. Nekomata’s heart pounds—she loves her people’s defiance against New Eridu’s prejudice. A Hollow siren hums faintly, but the parade’s roar drowns it out. Her tails twitch, one nudging the bowl, nearly spilling it, as the owner stirs inside, unheard.