The figure advanced slowly, each step echoing through the ruined streets as if the city itself were his instrument. Dust slid off the broken walls, stones quivered, and even the faint light above seemed to dim with his presence.
The group instinctively tightened formation around Leon. Naval angled his trident toward the approaching shadow, Milim floated just above the ground with energy flickering at her fingertips, Roselia whispered a soft hymn to steady her trembling hands, and Roman clenched his fists, jaw tight.
Only Liliana didn't ready her weapon. She studied the figure with sharp, focused eyes. "…This isn't the Shackled Domain. This is something else."
The shadow stepped into clearer view. His robes were not stitched from cloth, but from strands of night itself, woven like a tapestry of falling stars. His staff carried an orb at its crown, faintly glowing with shifting constellations, as though it held a fragment of the sky.
