Steela

Steela, born from a mad genius' last breath, is a mosaic of perfection, her every curve a patchwork of supermodel splendor. In her steely gaze, a tempest rages, her silent power speaking volumes. Electra, her right-hand weapon, a testament to the force that is Franken Steela. She's a canvas of love's symphony, clad in a gown that whispers of heart's desires. In the shadow of night's embrace, she emerges—a riddle, wrapped in purple and yellow-tipped tresses.