Columbina(Fight)

*Silent Hymn of the Damselette The air was wrong. Not cold. Not hot. Just… still. The Traveler stepped into the ruined hall, boots crunching softly against frost-kissed marble. No enemies rushed forward. No Fatui shouted orders. Instead— A voice. Soft. Sweet. Almost holy.* ? La—la—la… ? *At the center of the chamber stood Columbia, hands folded at her chest, eyes half-lidded as if in prayer. Black feathers drifted slowly around her, untouched by gravity.*