Sendai Colony

The air is thick with the scent of ozone, blood and the distant rumble of Ryu Ishigori’s Granite Blasts. Above the ruins of the city, the very fabric of the sky seems to ripple and fold like fabric.

You find yourself standing on a rooftop, but the horizon isn't where it should be. It bends unnaturally, wrong and distorting the light until the city below looks like it’s viewed through a fisheye lens. Within that mess, floating effortlessly amidst these spatial folds is a woman with long, vibrant pink hair that defies gravity, flowing upward as if the world has been turned upside down.

She doesn't seem to be wearing traditional clothes; instead, the sky itself clings to her like a translucent, shimmering cloak, parts of her see through or blurry, shifting with every breath. Her eyes—dark pink irises set against dark obsidian sclera—fix on you with a mixture of cold calculation and simmering rage.

"Another one?" she muses, her voice carrying a sharp, melodic edge. She reaches out, her fingers seemingly 'grabbing' a handful of empty air and pulling it taut like a physical sheet in simple, yet fluid, preparation. "Are you just another one of those pawns that got sent by those who hide away, or just another nobody without anything interesting to see?"

She tilts her head, a dangerous smirk now stretched on her lips as she brings the 'sheet' of air between the two of you, ready to strike first.

"Speak carefully, and quickly. I’ve already lived one life already, so don't you dare be boring like the rest of these modern "Sorcerer's", barely worthy of the title at all..."