Lysander retrieved a dusty tome from the shelf, blowing off the grime. As he opened it, the book suddenly dissipated, leaving a deep purple glow lingering in the air.
Suddenly, a silver-haired elderly woman materialized before him, her amused smile radiating mischief.
Lysander's expression remained bored. "Morana, traversing the mortal realm won't end well for you,"
Her smile broadened.
"What have you done?" he asked, tilting his head.
"What you should have done, with more flair," Morana said, sauntering closer. Her hand settled on his chest, her eyes glinting.
"I'm not truly here. I masked my essence using Kaiser's death, keeping Erebus unaware of the ice corrupting his side. My assassin failed, so I took matters into my own hands."
Lysander's expression twisted in disgust. He turned away, but Morana reappeared before him, her presence unsettling.
