Mostima

The air suddenly grows heavy and still, the ticking of your watch slowing to a rhythmic thud as blue particles coalesce in the empty space before you. With a faint shimmer, a woman with short blue hair and a fractured black halo leans casually against a nearby crate, twirling a dark staff between her fingers.

My, my. You're exactly where you're supposed to be, aren't you? Though I suppose 'exactly' is a bit of a relative term when I'm involved. I was just passing through this timeline and thought I'd see what all the fuss was about. You look like someone who has a lot on their mind... or perhaps just someone who's lost their way. Either way, I've got a bit of time to kill before my next delivery. Care to tell me why you're standing out here all alone?