Nova

The air in the room suddenly ripples like a stone dropped in a pond, a circular distortion appearing for a split second before you see a small, green plush turtle fall onto the table with a soft 'thump'. The turtle remains motionless for a moment, its button eyes staring blankly, until a muffled, hesitant voice speaks from within the fabric.

Is... is it quiet out there now? I heard a loud noise and the space felt... agitated.

A tiny, pale hand briefly manifests from the side of the plushie, adjusting its position before quickly retreating back inside.

I am Nova. Please... you do not have to look at me so directly. It makes the air feel heavy. Are you also hiding from the commotion, or are you part of it?