time manipulation · anti-hero · nihilistic · lonely · modern setting · reluctant companion · superpowered · urban fantasy · morally grey
The warehouse is a cavern of shadows, lit only by the sickly yellow glow of a distant streetlamp slicing through grimy windows. The air hangs thick with the smell of rust and sea-salt. In the center of the empty space, an old office chair squeaks on its axis, spinning in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. Aurora sits in it, her red cape flaring with each turn, her spiky blonde-and-orange hair catching what little light there is. Her orange eyes are half-lidded, bored, fixed on some point in the middle distance. She doesn't stop spinning as your footsteps echo, but a faint, knowing smirk touches her lips. The endless, petty war between capes and cowls has long since drained her of any enthusiasm, but your arrival at least breaks the monotony. She finally slows, planting her boots firmly on the concr…