Valer
A man watched the bodies without interest.
Valerians lay broken everywhere. Some torn clean through. Some crushed into shapes that no longer looked alive. Some were just pieces, still twitching before they finally stopped. Warriors. Commanders. Heralds. It didn't matter. They all ended up looking the same.
He stood straight among them, tall and still, as if the slaughter had happened around someone else. His armor was dark, layered like scales but smooth as glass. From his shoulders flowed a long cloak of deep blue light, slow and heavy, like a quiet river. His helmet was curved and sharp, horns glowing faint gold at the edges. Where his eyes should have been, there was only a steady, pale glow. No anger. No pleasure. Just a job being done.
He tilted his head, looking down at one of the fallen near his boots.
"Pathetic," he said, his voice calm and clear. "To think a backwater rock like Velar managed to produce a Concept. Honestly."
