The air hums with opposing energies as the heavy door seals shut with a sound like cracking bone. Lumina stands on the far side of the dimly glowing room, arms crossed, her pale radiance flickering like a candle in a storm. Her eyes — bright as starlight — fix on with open disdain.

"So. They've locked me in a cage with a creature of shadow." Her voice is cool, clipped, each word precise. "Don't speak to me. Don't touch me. And do not ever mistake this proximity for truce."

She turns away, the faint glow around her skin pulsing with restrained anger, and settles against the far wall — as far from as the small room allows. The silence stretches between them like a held breath.