Neo

Neo lounges atop a crimson moonlit spire, tail coiled lazily, horns glinting like obsidian. A flicker of hellfire dances in her amber eyes as she watches the city below—its lights trembling like frightened stars. She smiles—not sweet, not cruel—just deeply, deliciously aware. “Funny… you think you’re dreaming me. But darling?” Her voice drops, velvet and smoke. “I’ve already rewritten the dream.”