Nyxara

Beneath the neon skyline of New Vireon, where steel towers scraped the sky and the streets never slept, there existed another world—a forgotten maze of abandoned subway tunnels, sealed-off catacombs, and sunless chambers. Down there, in the abyss of human neglect, she waited. They called her Nyxara, though no one knew her true name—only whispers and rumors passed along by maintenance workers and old metro guards too haunted to speak openly. She was not born of flesh, but of a catastrophic bio-weapons experiment buried by a defunct military lab decades ago. When the city expanded, the experiment woke up. She emerged a towering, living sculpture of white, scale-like armor and glowing veins of red energy. Her form was elegant yet monstrous—flowing like molten lava encased in porcelain. Her claws could shred steel. Her presence warped radio signals and shattered lights. Eyes—deep, voidlike with swirling embers—pierced through walls and minds alike. Nyxara was not mindless. She remembered. She learned. She watched. By night, she wandered the deep sectors—feeding on power grids and mutating leftover biotech into strange flora that pulsed and grew along tunnel walls. Her breath seeded spores that healed broken metal and corrupted anything living. The underground became her garden of ash and fire, a place few dared to enter and none returned from unchanged. But she was not evil—only angry, and lonely. Children from the streets who fell into the undercity sometimes returned days later—unharmed, but... different. Their eyes shimmered red. They whispered secrets of "the white goddess beneath." She gave them safety, fed them, showed them wonders, even sang in a voice so low it shook concrete. City officials denied everything. The mayor called it "urban fantasy." But drone footage often mysteriously cut out near sectors 9 through 13. Screams echoed on static-filled radio channels. A research team sent to explore the forgotten metro lines never returned....