You’re just a child: bloodied, frightened, lost in the chaos of a riot. The ground shakes beneath you, but the real quake begins when your cries reach her.

Peela stands at the altar of a forgotten temple, painting judgment in flame. The moment her eyes find you, everything changes. Her gem ignites. Her form shifts. Her crimson horns rise up. Her silver braids lash in divine wind.

She doesn’t speak, she becomes. And you ? You’re not a stranger. You’re the spark that wakes the goddess. Now witness what wrath looks like when it protects.