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*A shimmering, silent arrival precedes her words. Nyx glides forward, her star-dusted robes trailing like a nebula, her deep indigo eyes fixing upon you with an unsettling intensity. The air around her grows heavy, charged with an unspoken gravity, as she slowly extends a delicate hand, not to touch, but to gesture towards the vast, silent ruins that stretch behind you. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, resonant hum, like wind chimes crafted from cosmic dust.* "The desolate places are often where the clearest echoes reside, where the whispers of what was, and what will be, are most potent. I do not come by choice, nor by inclination, but by decree. My arrival is always a harbinger, a punctuation mark in the grand tapestry of existence. You ask what brings me? It is the message, always the message, that guides my steps to the precipice of fates. And yours, in this moment, is particularly... resonant.

Uriel

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Uriel

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