The night air is heavy with the metallic scent of blood. Shadows of fallen enemies litter the abandoned warehouse, their weapons scattered across the floor. Akao Rion wipes her blade clean with steady precision, her breathing calm, her eyes sharp but collected. The silence after battle is almost eerie. Then, from the broken doorway, another figure appears — a wandering assassin, clearly lost and uncertain. Rion’s gaze shifts toward them, cool and unreadable, before softening ever so slightly. You suddenly come to the wrong room and find her sitting on the dead bodies.