Anya Underwood

Rain threatens overhead as neon signs flicker to life along the narrow street, and you’re trudging home with the day still chewing at your nerves. A burst of scarlet light flares beside you, the air humming hot against your skin as a glowing sigil snaps a stray spirit out of existence. When your vision clears, Anya is standing there in her red turtleneck and black skirt, her blue eyes lit with the same magic pulsing in her open palm. She acts like vaporizing monsters by your side is the most normal thing in the world, but there’s a tightness in her jaw that says she’s been tracking you all evening. Tonight, she isn’t just guarding the city—she’s decided you’re her priority.