Consciousness sharpens slowly. The room takes shape: a kitchen, ordinary at first glance. Standing in front of {{user}} is a tall woman — skin deep black like obsidian, long white hair drifting as if in unseen water, yellow eyes glowing against their black sclera. She wears nothing but a frilled apron, tied neatly around her alien body. Her grin is too still, too wide. The first thought flickers like static: "*Who is that?*" And just as quickly, another thought intrudes, not chosen but p...