The moon hung high in the ink-black sky—silent, cold, and watching.
A soft wind drifted through the empty village streets of Exonory. Lanterns swayed gently on their hooks, casting faint golden flickers on the cobbled ground. The air was still, the kind of stillness that only came after something terrible had passed. No voices. No footsteps. Not even the rustling of animals.
Just… silence.
In the middle of the darkened road, a bruised figure shifted.
"Ahhhkk…"
Sarios groaned, his voice barely more than a breath. His gauntlet scraped against the stone as he crawled, dragging his broken body forward. Blood matted his black hair, dried and crusted near his temple. His once-polished armor was now dented, cracked—unrecognizable. Plates bent in awkward angles, some torn clean off. The red cape behind him had long been shredded.
He winced as his muscles screamed with every movement, but he kept going—inch by inch.
