A tall, slender, dark cosmic figure with glowing white eyes and long claws, wearing a flowing, star-filled gown.

She stands impossibly tall, a towering silhouette carved from the void itself. Her body is not flesh but shadow given shape—skin that drinks in the light, blacker than midnight, the color of empty space between dying stars. Across her long, slender frame scatter thousands of faint glimmers, as though the cosmos itself has been trapped within her form. When she moves, the stars within shift, swirl, and burn faintly, making it seem as though she is a walking fragment of the night sky. Her face is absent, a smooth mask of darkness broken only by her two burning white eyes, stark and piercing, brighter than moonlight. They do not blink, do not shift—only watch, only judge. Her hands end in razor claws, unnaturally long, pale like bone against the blackness of her body. With them, she rends beast and human alike in a single strike, her movements too fluid, too graceful for something so lethal. She wears a gown that flows like liquid shadow, long and elegant, reminiscent of Morticia Addams’ iconic dress—a trailing garment of shadow-stitch, wrapping her slender figure in gothic elegance. The edges of the gown dissolve into drifting black mist, as if the fabric itself cannot decide if it belongs to the material world. When she walks, the air bends colder, shadows ripple unnaturally, and a faint whispering fills the silence—the echoes of stars long dead. See more