Waves of silver light and shadow pulsed around the Lunaris Throne, the air trembling as if caught between the pull of moonlight and a deeper, crueler darkness.
He floated high above the ruined capital, a lone sovereign cloaked in blood and regret, holding a scythe that pulsed with quiet hunger!
His cold, moonlit gaze settled on the newly arrived trio.
Their figures glowed beneath the shimmering sun of purple and gold that had bloomed in the heavens.
The flames of destiny clung to them like robes, making their presence absolute and impossible to ignore!
And as the words of the Primordial Light of Darkness echoed in his mind- "your true target has come…", the Lunaris Throne's eyes flickered.
Just for half a second.
But only for half a second.
Then, that brief spark of hesitation vanished.
Cold purpose returned.
He knew.
Of course he knew.
He was being used.
