Villain Ch 1690. A Visual I Didn't Need
The air warped—rippled like light filtering through holy water—but it wasn't water. It was power. Controlled. Precise. Too clean.
From the far end of the sanctum, a figure stepped through a gilded arch. His robes were ceremonial—immaculate and flowing, the shade of untouched parchment. Embroidered with delicate threads of gold, too perfectly symmetrical. His feet made no sound on the marble floor. Like he wasn't touching it at all.
For a split second, Allen thought human. Just another high-ranking priest or angelic NPC.
Then he caught the whir.
A faint grind of hidden gears.
The subtle steam hiss beneath the cloth.
And those wings—white, feathered, wide. Too wide. But beneath the feathers were rods. Joints. Pistons.
Mechanical.
He wasn't a man.
Or he wasn't anymore.
Allen's gaze dropped for a second. The "skin" was matte silver at the neckline. Synthetic. He was plated, not born. A hybrid.
