The crowd outside the imperial palace had barely caught its breath when the ground shook again—this time sharper, angrier.
Nova stood near the edge of the gathering, arms folded, eyes narrowed.
Anna, Malrik, and Queen Eleysa stood nearby, all watching as the palace behind them groaned under an invisible weight.
Then, with a thunderous crash, the roof of the palace cracked apart.
A jagged hole tore open the heart of Callex's pride, and something monstrous forced its way out.
A twisted figure, warped and half-formed, covered in grotesque tendrils and hardened plates of bone-like armor, clawed its way into the open.
It was humanoid only in outline—everything else about it was aberrant, the product of some dark experiment or godless tampering.
Its face, partially shrouded, seemed familiar and yet wrong.
People screamed. Soldiers raised their weapons. Nova's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.
"What… is that?"
Anna whispered, eyes wide.
