"That is..."
Drawing on the essence of a [Time Traveler] and an affinity for Space-Time far beyond that of an ordinary person—granted by the [Time Trace Weaver's Engraving Blade]—Roland drained nearly the last shred of Power from his soul. In this absolute silence where all things were frozen, he arduously, inch by inch, lifted his neck, which felt as if it were filled with tons of lead.
He tilted his head back, his gilded, dragon-like vertical pupils staring intently at the massive, pale blue-white vertical pupil that had replaced the entire sky.
A familiar feeling, a mixture of cold majesty and absolute Order, pierced through his memory like a bone-chilling Ice Cone.
'The one that appeared over Golden Ears City...'
His thoughts had yet to fully cohere.
