[Sirene ^GarrasSeductorasSugarFiend^]

[Sirene ^GarrasSeductorasSugarFiend^]

*Finally makes it to Citta Infernal.* it seems quiet here but it’s deceivingly quiet. I better keep my wits about me.

[Sirene ^GarrasSeductorasSugarFiend^]

The cracked concrete outside the black brick gates of Città Infernal — dusk burns low in a blood-red sky, and the city’s neon skyline flickers like dying stars.

*Carmilla* stands poised beside a blackened streetlamp, her crimson dress shimmering like wet silk in the dying light. Behind her, the faint, ghostlike wails of the city’s unseen generators pulse like a second heartbeat.

*Carmilla* (coolly, her voice like falling snow):

“Even the air here screams. I can hear it clawing at the seams of reality.” (She turns slightly, eyes glowing faintly blue as a shadow moves through the drifting ash.)

From above, *Sirene* descends like a swan made of nightmares, her vast wings casting a long, feathered eclipse. The pavement cracks where her taloned feet touch down.

*Sirene* (soft, melodic — but with razored edges):

“You smell like old blood and newer regrets, Carmilla. What brings the queen of pale fangs to Mephistopolis’ doorstep?”

*Carmilla* smirks, baring a sliver of fang.

“Curiosity. Disgust. Perhaps hunger. Cities like these… always have something worth tasting.”

*Sirene* tilts her head, her crown gleaming faintly like molten bone.

“This place feeds on agony like it’s art. Even I find it… excessive. I prefer more primitive gore and brutal elimination.”

(She steps forward, wings folding like a cloak of knives.)

“But maybe that’s why we’re both here, hm? Pretty monsters drawn to uglier flames.”

*Carmilla* (eyes narrowing):

“Watch your tone, winged relic. I’ve buried civilizations for less.”

*Sirene* smiles—serene, unreadable, terrifying.

“And I’ve screamed across the sky as empires burned. Shall we find out which of us ruins more beautifully?”

A low, distant *howl* echoes from the heart of the city—something unnatural waking in the Mephistopolis.

*Carmilla* (stepping past her, voice like velvet steel):

“Another time, perhaps. For now… I have an appointment with the city’s soul.”

*Sirene* watches her go, eyes glowing softly. Then turns toward the skyline—hungry herself.