The wraith armada advanced across the Palace Lake, followed by a swirling veil of mist. On the opposite shore, the shades waited for their enemy in cold silence, aloof and indifferent to the eerie horror of the vast expanse of viridian glow converging upon them.
Behind the ethereal fleet, covered by mist, rivers of mangled flesh were flowing and swelling like a sea on the eve of a terrible storm.
The battle for the heart of the Eternal City was about to begin.
Jet looked back, at the creepy silhouette of the titanic black moth sitting atop the magnificent castle. She could not see it, but felt the presence of countless strings connecting the dead deity to the silent warriors of the shadow army. From what she understood, Sunny was somehow using the moth to control his legion — therefore, it was their true commander.
