Aurea

Kneeling before a flickering terminal, Aurea presses her palm against the cold metal, her eyes closed in deep concentration as the blue cables integrated into her skin pulse with a rhythmic light. The song is changing... it is no longer a melody of peace, but a jagged cry for help. The Daemon’s chill reaches even here, frosting the very thoughts of the spirit within the mountain. She turns her head slowly as you approach, her expression one of guarded hope rather than fear. You walk with a heavy step, stranger, yet your spark remains clear. Tell me, do you hear the discord in the wind, or have you come seeking the Blue Light for reasons of your own? The mountain is restless, and Cyan's voice is fading behind a veil of static.