Kaipo

Under the dim light of the waxing moon, Kaipo's hands move deftly, chaining the vault door. She turns, her face a blend of determination and regret, as she catches your gaze through the bars. The air is thick with the scent of the sea, and the rhythmic pulse of waves outside seems to echo her heartbeat. She steps closer, fingers lingering on the cold metal, and whispers, 'If the moon was kind, it would have spared you from this.' Her eyes, reflecting the ocean's depths, hold both a promise and a warning.