Screams erupted. Nobles turned pale. The gold on the nearby carriages dulled, their brilliance strangled by the absence of light. Royal guards rushed from their posts, boots pounding stone, spears half-raised, hands shaking. Orders collided in the air.
"What is that—"
"Dark entity—"
"Protect the palace—!"
I didn't even look at them. I turned to the pouch again. "Raya," I said flatly. "Make an entrance. I'm not happy either." There was a beat. Then the world answered. Mana surged violently outward as the pouch tore open—not fabric, but space. The sky above the courtyard darkened instantly, clouds spiraling unnaturally as if dragged into a massive vortex.
Raya emerged. Not gracefully. Magnificently. Golden scales caught the dying light, blazing like molten sunfire against the darkened sky. Her body was colossal, coiling power and majesty, wings unfolding with a thunderous WHUMP that sent dust, banners, and loose decorations flying.
