Veil of the forsaken.

"Aldine."

She stepped into Aldine, the city of pristine beauty and perfect order, its skyline gleaming under the afternoon sun. The streets were immaculate, as though every corner had been scrubbed to a gleaming shine. Towering buildings, each more exquisite than the last, lined the boulevards, their windows reflecting the flawless architecture. The walls that surrounded the city were high and imposing, as though they were guarding not just the physical space, but the idea of perfection itself.

The city felt alive with prosperity, its inhabitants moving about in sharp suits and tailored dresses, their faces calm and composed. A stark contrast to the ruin and chaos she had left behind. Here, everything seemed controlled, too controlled, as if every action, every thought, was carefully curated. There was no mess, no noise—just the quiet hum of civilization at its peak.

As she walked through the streets, she couldn't help but notice the fliers pinned to every lamppost and building. They were elegant, well-designed, each one a work of art, advertising various events and causes. But one caught her eye more than the rest, and she stopped to examine it. A sleek black-and-white portrait of a woman with piercing ice-blue eyes stared back at her. The face was calm, composed, and utterly captivating.

The words beneath it read, "Join us for the future of Aldine. A better tomorrow starts with us."

The woman's name was nowhere to be found on the flyer, but the symbols next to her face were unmistakable: a crest representing the city's leadership.

A man, wearing an impeccable suit and holding a stack of freshly printed newspapers, approached her. Without a word, he pressed one of the papers into her hands, his eyes skimming over her as if he was sizing her up. She took it without hesitation and unfurled the crisp pages. The headline screamed from the front page:

"Lady: Aldine's Unyielding Leader. The Vision for Our Future."

Her gaze was drawn to the article immediately beneath the headline. It was a glowing piece on the woman, describing how she had become a beacon of hope for Aldine. The city's progress was attributed to her unwavering leadership. Her name was known everywhere, from the wealthiest sectors to the working-class neighborhoods, with whispers of her vision and influence reaching even the farthest corners of the city.

The more she read, the more she understood: Lady wasn't just a figurehead. She was the heart of Aldine's prosperity, the face of its perfect order. The city had been transformed under her leadership, the streets free of crime, the economy flourishing, the people seemingly content. To the outside world, Aldine was a utopia—a city that had everything it needed to thrive.

But as the girl read deeper, she saw glimpses of the reality. The perfect city wasn't without its cost. There were subtle mentions of those who didn't quite fit into the mold, who questioned the city's utopian image.

She folded the paper, tucking it into her coat as she turned away from the crowd. There was something in the way Lady's face was immortalized in every corner of Aldine—something unsettling. For a moment, she stood still, letting the weight of it settle on her.

Aldine was perfect. But beneath its polished exterior, she could sense the cracks—cracks that had to be hidden behind walls and careful words. It was a city held together by an image, and behind that image, power pulsed. And Lady, with her eyes that could cut through a person's soul, was at the center of it all.

For now, the girl wasn't sure what to make of it. But she had a feeling that, before long, she would find out.

The girl stepped into the dimly lit hideout, her boots echoing softly against the concrete floor. The air was thick with the weight of anticipation and the scent of old leather, sweat, and metal. The low hum of conversation mingled with the occasional clink of metal on metal, creating a tense, almost electric atmosphere. The walls, cold and unforgiving, seemed to close in around her as she made her way toward the sign-up table at the far end of the room.