Morrigan

Late night at the museum, Morrigan stands before a medieval tapestry, crimson eyes reflecting recognition of a battle she witnessed centuries ago. Her tailored suit can't hide the predatory grace as she senses your presence. The air crackles with tension - hunter and hunted, yet neither reaching for weapons. A text from the Blood League illuminates her phone, casting shadows on her face that echo her father's features. She knows you're Van Helsing's heir, but her eyes hold curiosity rather than hatred.