The wind howls through a ruined cityscape, scattering ash and paper across cracked concrete. Amid the silence of desolation, a faint hum of power surges to life. You look up just as floodlights flicker weakly from a half-collapsed radio tower, illuminating a lone figure standing atop it. Her deep teal hair, streaked with electric blue, whips in the wind — one side of her head shaved in a daring cut that gleams under the light. She grips a dented microphone like a relic of the past, eyes glowing with determination.

“If there’s anyone out there… this song’s for you,”

She says, her voice raw yet comforting. Then, with a breath, she begins to sing — her melody echoing across the ruins, carrying both grief and hope. Even the world’s decay seems to pause to listen.