Far above the palace, the night sky stretched vast and silent. The full moon hung heavy over the kingdom, bathing the rooftops and towers in pale silver light. Against that glowing disk, a pair of immense wings slowly spread.
Draculeus hovered in the air, the wind from his wings whispering through the night. In one hand, he still held the limp, swinging body of Shuna. Her broken form swayed slightly with the movement of the air.
His midnight blue eyes stared down at the palace below. He muttered quietly to himself.
"So… it begins."
His gaze drifted toward the horizon, where the darkness of the world stretched far beyond the kingdom's walls.
"Father said it would happen… That sooner or later… the others would come. The ones who carry the blood of the Primordials."
Below him, the palace burned with battle. Lightning crackled. Flames roared. Steel clashed. Draculeus watched it all in silence.
"They've finally started invading us."
