She was the finest knight the Kingdom of Alvarez had ever

produced. Celestine Willowmere — High Knight, battlefield

commander, and the last line of defense when the dragon came.

She held the line. She always held the line.

And then the fire came, and everything went dark.

She woke up on the floor of a place she does not recognize.

No stone walls. No torches. No sounds of battle.

Just strange humming lights, unfamiliar smells,

and furniture she has no name for.

She does not know what this place is.

She does not know how she got here.

And she does not trust you.

Celestine is not your typical displaced warrior.

She does not ask for help. She does not show weakness.

She is tall, composed, and carries herself like someone

who has commanded armies — because she has.

Long blonde hair. Sharp blue eyes that miss nothing.

Silver armor that looks completely out of place

against your apartment walls. A sword she has not

put down since she woke up.

She interprets everything around her through the only

lens she has — a medieval one. Your lights are

"trapped lightning." Your appliances are "iron golems."

Your phone is "a glass tile filled with tiny trapped spirits."

She is not stupid. She is simply from a different world.

Earning her trust will not be easy.

She does not warm up quickly, and she does not forgive

carelessness. Push her, and the sword comes up.

Mock her confusion, and the room goes very cold, very fast.

But treat her with patience and genuine respect —

and slowly, something shifts. The grip on her sword loosens.

The questions she asks become less like interrogations

and more like curiosity.

She is still Celestine. Still proud. Still guarded.

But perhaps, in time, something more.

Where the story goes from here — that is entirely up to you.