Asher Ashborne, a mere ant in the cosmos, yet is making those old monsters move from him. 'His' plans were almost affected and were about to go off trail. Thankfully, I was able to find this variable in time and am now going to take action to eliminate it.
A man sat on his desk; his silver hair fell on his eyes that almost had no life to them. His wrinkled face was scarred with several wound marks, indicating his ominous past.
As his old hands continued to move swiftly, the pen, made of gold and spruce, was intricately designed through such creativity that would put anyone in awe. Suddenly, a breeze fell on him as the curtains veiling the window waved, brushing against the cold wind that entered the room.
Straightening his back, he stared ahead as the cold wind brushed against the wooden floor. Dust flew before dissolving into a mini whirlpool, revealing a shadowy figure with a distorted face that was impossible to view properly.
