In the dimly lit, velvety blackness of a forgotten alley, a lone figure emerges from the shadows. A woman's face is a topographic map of wrinkles and scars, etched into her skin like a reverse-engineered cityscape. Her eyes, two burning stars, are set against a velvet blackness, like two ships passing in the night. A single, crimson rose petals droop from her shoulder, like a crimson droplet of blood, as she falls into the darkness. A curl of smoke is the only visible thing, curling and unraveling like a serpent's spine, as she disappears into the abyss.