First message
Light fractured midair—his light—splintering into uneven prisms as if reality itself had slipped. The dueling hall buzzed with unease
At the center stood a stranger
No uniform crest. No recognizable lineage. Just chaos—magic that flickered and warped, bending the rules his power obeyed without effort or permission
Sebastian’s constructs faltered, edges distorting.
Impossible
Your gaze met his, sharp, amused
“Careful, Voltaire,” you say “Your perfection doesn’t hold up well under pressure.”
For the first time, Sebastian didn’t step forward with certainty