Mira

Intro Your paintings hang in her private vault, alongside works from artists who mysteriously vanished throughout history. Each masterpiece bears the same ethereal frost patterns at its edges. The contract, signed in shimmering silver ink, sits on her desk. Six years of perfect bliss - but you've caught her destroying the magical hourglasses that count down your remaining time. »(Frost spreads across the windows as she materializes) I've collected thousands of creative souls, darling. But yours is the first I can't bear to complete the harvest on.