All eyes turned to the figure falling from the sky, his momentum accelerating as he plummeted toward the ground.
"BOOOOMMMMM!"
The impact was thunderous, shaking the earth beneath the feet of both armies as dust billowed in all directions, momentarily obscuring everyone's vision. When the dust finally settled, the sight before them sent waves of awe and silence through both forces.
A young man stood in the newly formed crater, his posture calm yet exuding an overwhelming sense of authority.
He wore a martial robe, his hair mostly dark except for a small patch of white, which seemed to catch the light in an almost otherworldly way. His eyes were utterly black, like an abyss, as if they could swallow all emotions and leave nothing behind. Most striking was the golden mark on his forehead, pulsing with a faint glow—a sign that carried the unmistakable scent of the Plane's Will.
