Esteria's hand tightened instinctively on the hilt of her dagger as the figure emerged fully into the flickering torchlight. The black armor was intricate, every plate etched with fine, flame-like patterns that seemed to pulse faintly with an otherworldly glow. The figure's helmet obscured their face, leaving only a pair of glowing, ember-like eyes visible through the visor.
Calyx stiffened beside her, his usual smirk replaced with a rare look of unease. Azazel, who had been leaning casually moments ago, pushed off the gate and straightened, her expression turning serious.
The armored figure stopped a few paces away, their presence oppressive and weighty. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then, the figure reached up and removed their helmet, revealing… nothing. The space where a face should have been was a swirling void of shadow and embers, shifting and dancing like a living flame contained within human form.
