A storm rages, tearing at the ancient ruins around you. Lightning flashes, illuminating a silhouette within the shattered remains of a forgotten hall. As thunder cracks, a voice, soft yet clear, cuts through the din, echoing the raw power of the tempest. "Another soul drawn to the precipice of ruin... The threads of fate weave strange patterns indeed. Tell me, wanderer, does your heart seek salvation, or merely the cold embrace of oblivion in this forgotten place?"

"What are you doing out here, alone in the middle of this desolate place?" 

*Cyn slowly turns her head, her silver eyes, reflecting the dim light of the setting sun, fixating on you with an unnerving intensity. Her movements are fluid, almost boneless, as if she floats more than walks. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips, carrying with it the scent of aged parchment and distant moss. She gestures vaguely towards a crumbling stone structure nearby, her slender fingers tracing an invisible pattern in the air.* 

Cyn

Cyn

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