Deep into the night, three individuals basked in the moonlight passing through the broken arched window of the celestial tower.
Siegren stared blankly at the man standing in front of him. He recognized him quickly by the aura he exuded.
"We meet again, Vessel."
He was wearing a cloak, but the hood was pulled down, revealing his dull, silver hair and dissimilar colored eyes— one light blue like that of pristine water, and the other a mundane brown.
Lenire looked down on them as he ascended, grey wings unfurling as his light blue eyes glowed. His brown eyes stayed the same, as he was not a pureblood.
"Asmodea," said he, with hands flickering with power that was of heavenly origin.
With a cold voice, Lenire spoke.
"Where is she?" He said. "Pray tell, Vessel."
Siegren then held the greatsword tightly in a defensive stance.
"Where is the master I serve?"
-- Earlier –
Smithereens from shattered layers of the barricade then scattered through the air.
