A heavy stillness hung in the air of the Divine Plane, an ominous tension that seemed to make the very skies tremble. It was a silence that spoke of an impending storm, a disaster lurking just beyond the horizon. Across the Divine Plane, powerful figures stood at the ready, gazing upward with wary eyes, feeling the weight of something momentous approaching.
On the grand balcony of the Lovigary Imperial Palace, Griffith stood tall, his hands resting on the marble railing, eyes fixed on the heavens. His brows furrowed deeply, etched with concern. The wind rustled through his robes, carrying the chill of unease that he couldn't shake. Mabel stood to his right, her face stoic but her eyes betraying the heavy thoughts racing through her mind. Francis stood beside her, hands clenched into fists, his usual bravado absent as he stared skyward. Leah, the eldest, had just returned from the Imperial Sect and stood slightly apart, watching her father with a mix of confusion and concern.
