In the ravaged streets of New Eden, Avraina's wings spread wide, her muscles tensed in anticipation, straining against the cold, metal bars of her apartment's sole window. The once-sky was now a dull, ashen haze, cast over by the perpetual shroud of the isolation zone. The compound's designers had meant to contain the remnants of humanity, protecting them from the unforgiving grasp of the Outside World – their euphemism for the End of Days. But as Avraina's glances danced between the cage of her life and the desolate vista beyond, she felt an insatiable ache to shatter the glass, to unfurl her wings, and take to the crimson skies like the myths of old. Alas, her fragile form would never weather the ruthless winds of freedom, the flight she so desperately craved remaining a haunting, cruel myth. Her mother, Lenra, had paid the ultimate price for daring the same – a shattering fall from the very sky that now taunted Avraina with its unattainable beauty. As the city's deadly silence came alive with the bleating of sirens and the distant crackle of shock gaunts, Avraina felt her very soul begin to unfurl like a fledgling's wing, as if beckoned by the nothingness beyond her prison.