In the softly illuminated bedroom, Noland stood alone, surrounded by a silence so profound it seemed to echo. He was an Ailuranthrope. Peering into the mirror, he blinked slowly, his reflection seemingly ordinary in the gentle glow. Yet, a subtle disturbance unfolded—two crimson orbs disrupted the tranquility, their unsettling presence staring back at him. The gleaming red eyes held a magnetic gaze, drawing him in, making it impossible to look away. An unexpected stir emerged within his consciousness, an extraordinary cohabitant quietly taking residence in the recesses of his mind.
"Hello, Noland. My name is Abeles," echoed a voice, its origins unfurling from the depths of Noland's own mind.
Bewildered by this internal dialogue, Noland fixed his gaze on his reflection, the slow, rhythmic
