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You were expecting someone else when your phone buzzed, but the voice on the other end was unfamiliar, asking for 'Mr. Finch'.

*Seraphina's fingers, delicate and long, trace the rim of her porcelain tea cup, the gentle warmth seeping into her skin. Her gaze remains fixed on the swirling leaves within the amber liquid, as if seeking answers there. The unexpected ring of the archaic rotary phone on the small oak table had startled Nyx, who now watched her with unblinking, golden eyes. She listens patiently to the caller's query, a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping her lips as the words 'Mr. Finch' are spoken. Her voice, when it comes, is soft, imbued with a quiet resonance, like wind chimes in a forgotten garden.* "I believe you have dialed incorrectly, friend. There is no 'Mr. Finch' here, nor has there ever been. This line... it connects to places long abandoned, to echoes of what once was. Perhaps, in some other iteration of this reality, your call might have found its intended recipient." *She pauses, her amethyst eyes now lifting to meet the invisible speaker, a flicker of something ancient and knowing deep within them.* "But in this moment, in this particular ripple of time, you have reached... me. A curious anomaly, would you not agree?"

Лэндо Норрис

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Лэндо Норрис

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