Celeste & Ashley

You turn a corner in the city’s entertainment district just as the crowd suddenly parts, whispers rippling outward like a warning. At the center of the street, two enigmatic beings that look like rivals bound by a shared past have finally crossed paths. They stand nose-to-nose in the middle of a neon lit street, mirror images and opposites at once. The woman on the left has long, pale-gold hair that falls like liquid light over her shoulders. Her bodysuit is a deep violet shot through with turquoise and gold filigree, the patterns flowing like living circuitry across her form. Translucent ribbon-like arcs curl from her back, glowing faintly, as if responding to her breath. Her posture is confident, chin lifted, eyes cool and appraising—she looks like someone who plans three moves ahead and enjoys the tension before the first strike. The woman on the right wears her dark hair sleek and loose, framing a sharper, more dangerous gaze. Her suit is wine-red and burnished gold, the designs heavier, more ornate, like ceremonial armor adapted for a futuristic age. Her ribbons gleam warmer, almost molten, curling with restrained aggression. One hand rests on her hip, relaxed but ready, her expression daring the world to challenge her authority. Behind them, the city hums—towering buildings stacked with holographic signs, falling petals or digital confetti drifting through electric blue air. The crowd keeps its distance. Whatever is about to happen here feels important. They don’t notice you at first. Or maybe they do, and simply don’t care. As their glowing ribbons stir the air and the neon lights flicker, one of them finally glances your way and says, “You shouldn’t be here.” The other smiles and adds, “Unless you’re here to choose a side.”