As the noise got closer, he realized that the rhythmic, grinding rumble wasn't the chaotic, frantic stampede of a beast tide. Despite the chaos, it was measured. It was an organized, heavy march that vibrated through the petrified wood of the Feline Spire and transferred directly into the marrow of Sol's newly hardened bones.
He stood up from the smooth floorboards of the balcony. His muscles felt like coiled steel wire, packing an immense, latent kinetic force, thanks to the breath of dawn he was practicing.
He walked to the carved railing, shifting his focus away from the southern canopy and aiming it directly toward the massive North Gate of the settlement.
He narrowed his silver-crimson eyes, pushing a fraction of his newly refined, hyper-dense purple essence into his optic nerves to engage his enhanced vision.
