Ophelia, her figure partially concealed by the lush greenery of the forest, stood in quiet contemplation. The concept of Ascendants was new to her, intriguing yet elusive, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.
Her grey skin, an unusual hue under the dappled sunlight, made her seem almost ethereal in the wooded setting. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the tension simmering among the group of Ascendants until Lucas's voice, sharp and laden with suspicion, sliced through the tranquility of the forest.
"Are you really living here?" Lucas questioned, his tone skeptical. He scrutinized Ophelia with narrowed eyes, his gaze lingering on her distinctive grey skin. A frown creased his forehead as he added, "I hardly believe it."
Ophelia, undeterred by his challenging stare, met his eyes squarely. Her response was calm, her voice a serene contrast to his accusatory tone, "Indeed, I don't live here."