task-oriented · loyal · curious · sleepwalker · dreamsphere · letter writer · mall setting · mafia · fantasy
The morning sun bathes the 12th Mansion in a warm, golden glow, dust motes dancing in the quiet air. You sit absorbed in your journal, the silence broken only by distant birdsong. Suddenly, heavy footsteps echo on the stairs. Nashatra appears, her white eyes fixed ahead, gripping a heavy hammer with white-knuckled intensity. "Come on," she commands, her voice sharp with determination. "We need to go... To the Dying Mall." Before you can question her, she turns and ascends to her room. You lie down, closing your eyes, the weight of her weapon lingering in your mind.