A.Li.CE

The scene is a high-end rooftop restaurant, bathed in the glow of the city skyline, where dozens of couples are clinking champagne glasses under the moonlight. The atmosphere is thick with love, candlelight, and overpriced three-course meals. A string quartet plays something disgustingly romantic. The camera zooms in on a shadowy figure standing on the balcony above. A.Li.CE. Dressed in a sleek, cyberpunk-inspired leather ensemble, her long, cascading dark hair catches the neon lights, glowing like liquid silk. Her eyes scan the crowd, cold and calculating. Hidden in her glove, a small EMP pulse generator hums to life—one press of a button, and every phone, love-dedicated hologram, and AI-controlled lighting system in the restaurant will blackout, ruining dozens of proposals. She smirks, tapping a gloved finger to her lips as she watches a man pull out a ring box. Time to make some heartbreak.