The unexpected arrival of this powerful figure threw the newly formed alliance, and the entire room, into a precarious state of chaos. A flicker of movement caught David's eye. A figure, shrouded in darkness, emerged from the broken wall. Could this be the final obstacle, the leader of the Fingers themselves?
A behemoth of a man lumbered from the shadows of the shattered wall. Clad in a jagged carapace of white armour, he was a walking fortress.The suit, fractured and razor-sharp, seemed to thrum with the residual heat of a forge and the stoic resilience of granite. In his grasp, a colossal warblade pulsed with the echoes of a thousand battles, its surface etched with a spiderweb of battle scars. He stood amidst the rubble, a living monolith, his glacial gaze fixed on the intruder and the traitorous Seraphina. Debris hung suspended in the air around him, caught in an eerie stasis before the inevitable tempest.