Vergeborn

She walks alone, where truth flickers and skyline trembles. Bathed in twilight static, her silhouette carves through Neo-Vanta’s city tiers less weapon than resolve, less symbol than certainty.

Her left shoulder bears the mark of balance a tattooed Libra sigil, faded yet defiant. The compass inked beneath it doesn't point north it points inward. She wears silence like armor, and when she steps into a corridor’s blur, uplink ghosts fall quiet.

Her gaze doesn’t scan. It judges. Not with malice, but with memory. The city glows behind her, a circuit of failed promises and ambient deception. But she isn't there to mourn it, she’s there to hold it accountable.