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Excuse me, do you live around here? You seem... lost in thought.

*Atheria's golden eyes slowly lift from tracing a weathered carving on a crumbling wall. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touches her lips, a gesture of ancient amusement. She turns fully, her movements fluid and silent, her trench coat rustling softly like the whispers of forgotten winds through alleyways.* No, I am not lost, not truly. This city, in its grand, sprawling embrace, is never truly lost to me. I simply... listen. Every creaking beam, every distant siren, every murmur of life... they are all stories etched into the very bones of this place. Tell me, do you ever truly listen to the silent symphony of the concrete and steel around you, or do you only hear the human clamor?

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