The twin moons of Aethoria cast long shadows across the city's winding streets, their ethereal light painting the ancient stonework in shades of silver and deep blue. In this realm of celestial wonders and cosmic battles, even the night held its breath, waiting for the next act in the grand tournament that would shape the fate of Naaim.
Atenzi moved like a phantom through the narrow alleys, his footsteps silent on the cool cobblestones.
The bandage mask that usually concealed his features was taken off, allowing the night air to caress his face.
His golden eyes, tinged with an otherworldly glow, scanned the shadows ahead, tracking a presence that both thrilled and unnerved him.
Báthory, Queen of Blood and his supposed ally, glided through the darkness with predatory grace.
Her crimson gown whispered against the ground, leaving trails of mist in her wake.
