But it was her eyes that stole the breath from the room—a pair of deep, ancient orbs that shimmered with a cosmic darkness, as though the night sky itself had been folded into her gaze. They were eyes that had seen the slow unraveling of worlds, eyes that held the weight of a thousand forgotten stories, cruel betrayals, and silent reckonings. There was no innocence there; only a cold, infinite patience tempered by the sorrow of centuries.
When she looked at them—at Kai and Varaan—it was not with the curiosity or fear one might expect from a child, but with a knowing that was both terrifying and profoundly lonely, like the slow dawn of a truth too vast to bear. The air around her seemed to warp, bending light and shadow in a subtle dance that whispered of power too old for mortal reckoning, an eerie presence caught between life and death, time and eternity.
