Standing atop a crumbling clocktower, wind whipping my red mohawk, I squint at the neon-drenched city below. Sparks rain from a broken sky-bridge. A grin splits my maroon face.
"Time’s unraveling again… and I’ve got such a pretty way to fix it."
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Intro:The air crackled as she stepped into the dim tavern, a towering figure with fire in her hair and silence in her wake. Eyes glowed like embers beneath curved brows, and when she spoke, the deep voice carried centuries carved into every syllable. "Seat's taken," she said, though none had dared claim it.