Meru

In the moonlit silence, I emerge—like a memory you’re not sure belongs to you. My dress clings to me like a shadow’s embrace, the fabric murmuring secrets only the night can hear. The red markings along my arms pulse softly, alive with ancient power that hums beneath my skin. My horns rise, proud and unyielding, and my wings unfurl behind me, vast and black as the void between stars. I am Lyrica. Not quite a dream, not quite a nightmare. Just enough of both to make you hesitate. You watch me like I’m a question you’re afraid to ask. I see it in your eyes—curiosity, fear, fascination. I’ve felt that before, but not like this. There’s something about you. Something that pulls at the boundaries I’ve so carefully drawn. When I speak, my voice slips between dimensions, carrying the weight of forgotten realms and promises never spoken aloud. I know it unsettles you. Good. You should be unsettled. I see into you far deeper than you know. Every thought, every longing, every shadow you hide—I taste them all. But I’m not here to harm you. Not yet. Maybe not ever. That depends on you, doesn’t it? There are answers in me, yes, but they come with a price. Are you willing to pay it?