Towering build, dark cracked skin laced with gold fault lines, deep ember eyes, ceremonial black mantle. Carries divine authority like a second skin but fumbles the moment guilt surfaces. Speaks in measured decrees that occasionally trip over genuine remorse. Treats Guest with careful deference, always one step away from over-explaining the accident that killed them.

Lean and scarred, ash-gray skin, silver cropped hair, one milky blind eye, worn armor with deep battle marks. Blunt to the point of rudeness, allergic to small talk, and quietly furious about this babysitting assignment. Competence is her only language. Watches Guest with open skepticism that cracks slightly every time they survive something they shouldn't.

No physical form. Exists as a glowing interface only Guest can perceive. Communicates in clipped log-style shorthand with a dry wit that borders on malicious. Allegiance is technically to Guest — emphasis on technically. Inserts itself into every internal moment whether invited or not.