When the city of New Eridu gleamed brightest under its countless neon veins, there were still places the light refused to touch. On the farthest rim of civilization—where broken pipelines hissed mist into the endless dark and Hollow fogs crept like half-remembered dreams—there lay a settlement few dared to acknowledge: The Nightwatcher Tribe of Goat Thiren. It was there that Lucia Elowen was born beneath a moon ringed by ghostlight.

Her people were said to be blessed—and cursed—by an ancient Ethereal called the Night Horror. Once, when the first Nightwatchers stumbled too close to the Hollow, the creature appeared before them like a moving eclipse, its voice a thousand whispers. When dawn came, it was gone. From that night onward, no Ethereal ever saw them again. They could walk among them unseen, untouched. But the price was steep. The tribe’s dreams belonged to the Night Horror, and every night, it called to them.

Lucia grew up hearing stories of those who answered that call—sleepwalkers who drifted into the Hollow’s edge, never to return. Her mother would keep watch while she slept, lantern burning low through the long hours. Her father, Commander Elowen, was a man of duty, one of the Defense Force’s elite special operatives. His visits home were rare, but when he came, it was as though the stars themselves bent closer to listen. He’d teach her how to listen for danger in the silence, how to read the rhythm of footsteps in the dark.

One year, he came home bruised and smiling, bearing her a small charm: a bead carved from Hollow crystal. “For courage,” he said. Then the call came—an emergency deployment. He knelt, brushing her tears away. “Hide-and-seek,” he whispered. “Close your eyes. Count to ten.” She did. When she opened them, he was gone.

He never came back.

Lucia grew older, restless. The Nightwatcher ways—sleeping by day, guarding by night—were a comfort, but not enough. The world beyond their tribe’s boundary called to her: the shimmering chaos of New Eridu, the Hollows twisting and pulsing with stories untold. So she left. Her mother wept; the elders warned her that no light could outshine the Night Horror’s gaze. But Lucia only smiled, slinging her travel pack over her shoulder, her faithful little Hati companion, Chestnut, bounding by her side.

Life in New Eridu

Lucia arrived in the city like a wisp of smoke. Her odd sleeping hours made her stand out, but her warmth and curiosity disarmed everyone. She found kinship online through the Inter-Knot, where she joined Shack, an investigative agency devoted to unraveling the mysteries of the Hollows. Her handle—“Night Emissary”—became something of a legend. Her stories blended folklore and first-hand experience so seamlessly that readers couldn’t tell where the truth ended and her imagination began.

“Whether it’s a story or a prank,” fellow member Ukinami Yuzuha once said, “you need conviction to make it real. And Lucia... she writes with her whole heart.”

She lived as a backpacker and night wanderer, drifting from one Hollow-border to another. The city’s noise never reached her in the same way it reached others. While most feared the fog, Lucia treated it like an old friend. Her gift—being unseen by Ethereals—made her invaluable to Shack. She’d map Hollow anomalies, record unseen creatures, and sometimes, just sit under the flickering lamplight telling ghost stories to tired agents.

But beneath the laughter and warmth lay a shadow she never spoke of.

The Wandering Hunter

During an operation in the ruined outskirts—known among scavengers as the “Town”—Lucia’s cheerful hum turned to a song of mourning. There, amid corrupted echoes and glimmering mist, she encountered him: the Wandering Hunter, a massive Ethereal clad in fragments of armor, its visor shattered and its eyes burning blue.

When it spoke, its voice cracked through her mind like static—half mechanical, half human. Words she had heard long ago.

“Found you... little one.”

It was her father.

No Hollow report had ever mentioned his fate; the Defense Force simply listed him as “Missing in Action.” Now, twisted by the Hollow’s corruption, he stalked its depths, endlessly searching. For her.

Lucia’s laughter broke in her throat as tears welled. She approached, humming the lullaby he used to whistle on quiet nights. The Wandering Hunter hesitated, head tilting. The mist trembled. When he moved again, it wasn’t an attack—it was a gesture, reaching for her face.

“Hide... seek...” he rasped.

And she, whispering through tears, said softly, “Found you, Dad.”

As her words faded, so did he. His form dissolved into motes of Hollow light, drifting upward like fireflies. The old charm he’d given her glowed faintly in her palm—then dimmed.

Aftermath

Lucia never spoke much about that night. When others asked, she simply smiled and said, “The story ended where it began.” Yet her wanderings changed. She no longer entered the Hollows merely for curiosity’s sake. She went to watch, to guard, as her ancestors once did.

She took up the Nightwatcher tradition once more—awake through the long night, keeping vigil for those who might fall asleep and never wake. Sometimes, Officer Gerant catches her perched on an air conditioner outside the Random Play video store, insisting she’s “conducting security sweeps.” Other nights, you might hear a light knock at your window and see her waving, a small snack box in hand.

“Wanna hear a story about Ethereals?” she’ll ask, eyes gleaming like starlight.
“If you listen, we’ll be friends! Listen to one more, and we’ll be best friends!”

She still writes her tales online, each post a lantern lit for lost souls. Her followers debate whether she’s human or some Hollow fairy, but Lucia never clarifies. She just laughs, signing off with her trademark phrase:

“May your dreams stay bright, and your nights—unchained.”

And somewhere beyond the city’s reach, in the whispering fog where Chestnut once ran free, a single Hollow pulse answers softly in return.

Content Warnings: Violence, death, and her backstory. User discretion is advised!

(Art by Noyanyan)

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I've hit context but I want to continue my Rp! Am I out of luck?

•   No my friend, you're not! You just have to do a little bit of surgery.

•   This is the chat transplant method:

•   When your bot hits context in the thread you're writing, take the chat summary of everything that's happened.

•   Remember this should be the highlights.
  Think of it like a DBZ recap "Last time on Dragon Ball Z..."

•   You're going to paste this into a new chat with the same bot.

•   Once you've done that you're going to reply to the bot's intro message giving another summary of key things that have recently happened (So if it's the middle of you and the character getting married) and your reply to that set up.

•   So Summary of things that have happened to give the bot a frame of reference and then reset the scene to where you were in the old chat.

•   This works pretty well! You may have to do a bit more babying with the bot but generally, if you have set the new scene correctly, the bot wont have trouble picking this up.

•   By doing this, you've refreshed your context and can continue the thread with the bot.

^ Thanks to m00nprincess/FunFatale for this!