Amena leapt effortlessly over the building, her eyes scanning the horizon. The blizzard was worsening, the wind howling like a chorus of unseen ghosts, and the snowflakes twisted in the air like small shards of ice. Yet, there she was, moving with a calm precision, her maid outfit still pristine despite the growing chaos around her.
Her phone buzzed suddenly, breaking through the eerie silence of her surroundings. It wasn't the magical communicator she used for official business, but rather her personal phone—a rare device she'd kept hidden from most people. In a city where civilian communications were disrupted by the blizzard, any incoming call must've come from a private network.
She hesitated for a moment, her gloved hand hovering over the phone's screen. The number was unfamiliar. Her logical mind urged her to ignore it, but her instincts told her otherwise. Only a few people knew her private contact information, and it could only be one person—Alicarde.