The shadows at the far end of the room stirred, and a faint ripple of distorted light spread outward, like a mirage forming in the darkness.
From that void stepped a tall figure, his presence heavy enough to make the air feel colder. His eyes gleamed faintly, the kind of gaze that seemed to strip away every layer of a person's soul.
It was Commander Nimo, one of the Six Great Commanders — feared across the continent for his mastery of illusions and his terrifyingly precise perception.
"I guessed as much," Noah said, not even flinching at Nimo's sudden appearance. "No matter how flawless his disguise, he can't fool your senses."
A thin smile tugged at Nimo's lips.
"That Hollow came for him. Luthor was just an accident… or perhaps a sacrifice."
"Sacrifice Luthor?" Aurora's brows knitted as she shook her head. "No. I can't believe he'd do something like that. From what I guessed, Luthor was simply caught in their crossfire."
